little babies only a day or two old done up like brown-paper parcels.

In the afternoon we went to see where Abdul Hamid was imprisoned. He was allowed eighteen wives. He abdicated. The Germans threatened to rescue him, so high walls were built all round so that aircraft could not get near. After eighteen months he was told he might leave the country, otherwise be shot, so he went to Asia Minor, and now the house is used for military purposes.

Sunday, April 18, 1915.

We had Communion Service, which Dr. Dearmer conducted at 8.30. Then went to Turkish town, which is most interesting. We then went to the Greek military prison. Then to the Turkish Church. Before entering the church we had to remove our shoes; the floor was covered with squares of carpet. In the afternoon we went to St. Demetrius and saw a christening—most interesting. The priest first covered the baby, which was naked, with oil—head, eyes, cheeks, ears, body, legs, feet, back; then the mother poured a handful of oil over the baby's head. Then the priest took the babe and put it into a font of oil and water which completely covered it; then the baby was again crossed with oil, using a brush this time and taking the oil out of a bottle; then the babe was put into a piece of flannel into the mother's arms. She held two candles, one in each hand, and the priest took incense, which he swung backwards and forwards, and then went twice round the font. Then he read and kissed the book, and the woman kissed it twice, and the ceremony was finished.

We then went to the Greek cemetery, and saw where all the soldiers were buried in the last war. The Turkish cemetery was near by. We saw another large barracks and the Greek Military Hospital.

Monday, April 19, 1915.

We were shopping all morning, getting ready for our departure for Kragujevatz to-morrow, Tuesday. We leave soon after 7 o'clock. This afternoon we went with Mrs. Stobart as far as the tram went, then we walked to the beach. We were a party of twenty-four; we all had tea and then paddled and came home. I have just finished packing for Serbia.

Tuesday, April 20, 1915.

Got up at 6 o'clock, went to Hotel Splendide for breakfast; then we all marched behind a funny old cart, which had our luggage, to the station. I had a tin of honey, fifty-six pounds, which I bought at Salonika; the tin cracked and it began to run out; a cork came out of a paraffin bottle, and this began to run; then the luggage kept taking flying leaps off the cart: we had to keep running after it, to put it back: the man went on, never stopping for any catastrophe. When we landed at the station we had the time of our life, such a scuffle and rush to get into the train. Only twelve of us left to-day, and the other thirty-six follow us on Thursday. All the unit saw us off. The train left at 9.15; it was to have left at 8.

The smell of formalin in the train was very strong, and all of us were covered with paraffin, so the two smells together were not very delightful! Besides this, some of us had carbon balls and camphor in our pockets.

It took us about half an hour to get out of Greece. The country all along is simply wonderful; the most glorious scenery, hills, rocks and valleys, with the most gorgeous colourings. All along we saw herons, storks and eagles, vultures, magpies and jackdaws. All these birds are most plentiful and very tame. All the carts are pulled by buffalo oxen and donkeys. Most of the sheep are black; also the pigs and goats.

The train first stopped at Topsin, then at Amatovar and then Karasuli; these are all the Greek stations we passed. The first Serbian station we stopped at one and a half hours. It was at Ghevgheli. There were many Austrian prisoners and Serbian soldiers on the platform. The Serbians looked very tired, and their clothes were very shabby. They are very badly shod, only a kind of moccasin on their feet. A good many of the Serbians have khaki clothes, but it seems that they have been given by the English. On lots of the house-tops and chimney-tops the herons have built their nests; this was most interesting to see. A great many of the soldiers have lambs following them about like dogs. They are so pretty.

Eight lovely peacocks were on the platform, and they kept walking under the train; also one or two white guinea-fowls. We saw no end of tortoises all along the line, and we got one and brought it into the carriage, but we had to put it out again as we had no green stuff to feed it on. All the lakes and reservoirs are full of bull frogs; these make a tremendous noise just like a lot of ducks quacking. The trees in this part of the country are quite small ones, and there are no hedges; the blossom on the trees is perfectly lovely. We watched the butter being made from goat's milk, and very good it is. Most of the work in the fields is done by women and oxen, and the women look very picturesque in their different coloured garments. We had lovely flowers all the way, especially poppies. We kept passing swamps, full of different grasses. The mountains are wonderful, covered with snow, and we hear that when some of the snow melts dead bodies are found underneath. We crossed over the bridges which were blown up three weeks ago by the Bulgarians; we came through a wonderful tunnel cut in the rocks, and we passed no end of churchyards, where the men are buried in the different battles—Turks, Serbians, and Bulgarians—it is really pitiful to see them. We are guarded by soldiers all along the lines and on the trains. We passed lots of rows of little crosses where all the women, children and men were buried after the Bulgarian raid a week ago. A rope was put round their necks and they were hung up on trees to die. All the soldiers come and salute us at each station and along the line. They all look so sad. Uskub we stopped at 7 o'clock, and we were met by Sir Ralph Paget. We had dinner at the station: soup floating with grease and omelet as tough as leather; the bread was almost black and very sour. The room was very dirty, and many men were sprinkling disinfectants about. This amused me very much. We slept in the train.

Thursday, April 22, 1915.

We got up before 6 o'clock; had breakfast. It is much colder, and we are very near snow-clad mountains. We got to Nish at 8 and had two hours to wait. We were met by the Serbian Minister and doctor, and taken in a funny little carriage to the Reserve Hospital, where we washed.

This was the Hospital which contained 1,500 Serbian wounded when it fell into the hands of the Bulgarians. We then had breakfast—bread, raw bacon and eggs; not good; but we must be thankful for anything in these bad times. The beds in the wards are several planks of wood, with straw mattress and pillows—quite clean. The women are not a bad-looking race. The minister showed us a terrible photograph he had taken of women and children hanging from trees, where the Bulgarians had strung them up. Two units we left at Nish; one is coming in a few days to Kragujevatz, the other to Belgrade. We drove back to the station; impossible to walk; the mud is eight or ten inches deep.

We slept in the train, three in a compartment, and none of us got bitten. We first cleaned all the carriages out with paraffin. We passed through vineyards and maize-fields. The women do the ploughing with the oxen. There are hundreds of wounded Austrians everywhere to be seen. On arriving at Kragujevatz we were met by doctors and officers, and were taken out to dinner. Four carriages, two horses to each carriage, a most quaint turn-out. The horses seem to fly along, and the roads