Everywhere Ruin, standing side by side with the Sign of the Cross!

In the little town of Behericourt, a few miles from Noyon, France, a young Red Cross nurse alighted from her machine, and took a general survey of the ruined homes. Her mind had become accustomed to thinking of disaster and ruin, for everywhere the same sad spectacle met her pitying eyes, but her heart throbbed anew with every fresh scene. Here were about seventy-five helpless souls, living in their ruined homes, needing all of life's necessities.

She did not gaze long. She stepped up to the nearest house and knocked on the broken door.

A little child of ten, with pale, drawn face, and large fear-stricken eyes, cautiously opened the door.

"I'm a friend, little one," said Venna, smiling.

The child recognized the Red Cross and nodded her head vigorously.

"Come in," she said excitedly, and then vanished to carry the good news to others.

Venna entered the kitchen. In it were four broken chairs, a broken table and a broken stove. On some nails in the walls were hung broken kitchen utensils.

"It was the German idea to break everything from the greatest to the least," thought Venna sadly. "What homes for these poor people to return to!"

An old man of seventy and a woman not much younger entered with the little girl. There was no smile of welcome on either face—they had forgotten how to smile, but their eyes looked eagerly questioning.

"Have you brought us news, madam—news—tell us—what about them?" the old man asked excitedly.

Venna's eyes saddened. After all, her great wealth couldn't buy the most important things in France!

"Now, my dear, good people, I have no news today. I have come to see what you most need and to try to help you."

The old folks looked disappointedly at one another and then the old woman turned to Venna in tears.

"Give us news of our children and we can get along."

"Come, my good people, let us sit down here somehow, and talk things over. Tell me all about your children—maybe I can find out something."

They managed to prop the chairs and sit down, the little girl clinging close to Venna as the one bright spot in the dingy home.

"How many have you away? Just where are they?" asked Venna.

"God knows where they are!" exclaimed the old man, trembling. "There were two other girls, sixteen and eighteen, and their father and mother—all of us happy and working hard to keep together. The father and the two girls were compelled by the Germans to report at the Chateau—they took them to Germany to work—God, what will they do with my girls?" Here the old man moaned piteously.

"The mother died since of a broken heart," said the old woman, continuing the story her husband was not able to finish. "Would to God they were all dead! We'll soon go, too. Who'll take her?" she asked, pointing to the frightened child.

Venna patted the child's head.

"She'll be well taken care of—by the Red Cross."

"Will she?" asked the old woman eagerly. "That's a piece of comfort to know."

Venna felt she was lingering too long.

"I must be back to Noyon at a stated time, so I must not stay as long as I would like to," she said. "Come, tell me some things you need. You surely need something?"

"Everything," replied the woman hopelessly. "We need windows—it's so cold—every one is broken."

Venna's heart ached. Even her money could not buy glass here!

"We can't get glass," she said, "but I'll come with help in a day or two, and we'll try to bring something that will keep the cold out."

"Then where can we get the light?"

"I really don't know," said Venna as cheerfully as she could, "but I'll talk it over at headquarters. Good-bye for a few days. Take courage. We'll do our very best for you."

As Venna left the house, and went to the next, the child stood watching her go with eyes full of longing for the promised future.

When Venna had finished her rounds, her heart was unusually heavy. She could not get hardened to these scenes of misery. What an experience had been hers! New York and its associations seemed in another world of the remote past.

Her husband's letters had come frequently and been a great source of courage. But for the last month she could get no news from him. Evidently his letters were lost—or—she dared not think anything worse—surely if anything had happened to him, she would have been notified, yet—the cruel doubt made her shudder, and to-day, as she drove toward Noyon, she felt a deep sympathy for those she had just left—the poor, helpless people clamoring for news. News! How she longed for news herself!

As she approached the top of a hill, a sign came in full view.

"Cette pointe est vue de Tenmeni. N'arrettez pas"—(This point is in sight of the enemy. Do not stop.)

Venna gave a shudder as she passed by quickly.

On the other side of the hill she beheld the ruins of the great castle of Coucy. The Lords of Coucy had been the proudest in the surrounding country. They held themselves superior to kings. Now this massive castle was a heap of dust-colored stone.

"Surely God is no respecter of persons," thought Venna.

When she reached Noyon and turned in at the Evacuating Hospital, she was greeted with a laugh from one of the nurses.

"You are just in time!" she said. "Fifty pink and blue pajamas have just come for the men. They'll surely scrap over them if you don't give them out. There are not enough to go around."

Venna smiled.

"I'll take them in and have them draw lots," she said.

As Venna entered the convalescing tent, there was a general delighted murmur of welcome. That she was the idol of the soldiers was plainly seen by the expressions on their rugged faces.

She held up one pink pajama and one blue.

"Now, boys," she said, smiling brightly, "there are just twenty-five of each. I wish we had enough for all, but we have not. What do you say if we draw lots?"

"Good!" came unanimously as each soldier eyed the alluring garments with envy.

The first to draw a pink pajama was the "baby of the ward," a boy of eighteen who was stretched out with a fractured hip. He was so delighted with his new present that he begged to have it put on immediately.

"Le Bebe' Rose!" shouted the soldiers.

That night the soldiers in their new pajamas were carried joyously into the concert tent, the envy of all those who were less fortunate in drawing lots.

Venna looked on with a smile on her face and sadness in her heart.

"After all, these brave men are boys at heart!"

Later on in the evening, when the moon was full up, Venna walked out alone. She felt that she must calm her perturbed thoughts.

Where was her husband? Her anxiety was getting beyond her endurance.

For ten minutes she walked and prayed.

Suddenly, like a huge beetle, a boche airplane swooped low over Noyon! Then came an awful crash!

Venna stood fascinated, gazing up at this awful bird of destruction. The search-lights were in full play. Venna could plainly see the cross on the under side of the wings. What a hideous mockery!

A soldier sprang to Venna's side.

"Madam! The shrapnel! Come back against this house!"

But the warning was too late. Another bomb fell. A piece of flying shrapnel struck Venna.

Her hands clasped in prayer and her lips moved inaudibly as she sank upon the ground.

Tenderly the soldier leaned over Venna's still form. The moonlight lit the ghastly wound in her forehead.

"Dead!" exclaimed the soldier, horrified.

Gently he lifted Venna in his big, strong arms and made for the hospital.

"Damn!" he muttered. "Why didn't the hellish thing hit me?"