luscious and full blown as the fruit of the Chihuahua Mormons, no hogs so fat and clean-skinned, no cattle so well-beefed, no horses so soft-coated, hard-muscled, and highstrung.

Then came the social earthquake managed by Madero. The Mormons stuck to their Mexican homes longer than some Americans, but the shocks of the "Red Flagger" upheaval shook them harder than the Madero disturbance, and on July 28, 1912, one thousand Mormons, mostly women and children and old men, went to El Paso over the jolting rails of the Mexican Northwestern and moved into the tent colony established on McGoffin Avenue with the help of a Government appropriation. Eighty-five lean, hardhanded men remained herding the live stock of the colony with Winchesters for crooks.

But a week or two later the attentions of the thieving followers of that great railway dynamiter, Pascual Orozco, had become so un.pleasantly insistent that the rear guard of blue-eyed husbands followed their wives and children, carrying the last of their family heirlooms through the Sierra Madres to Hachita, New Mexico, in long-bodied farmwagons. The considerate Orozcistas did less burning than some of the earnest reformers that have followed them, but they were fairly efficient looters and left not a centavo's worth of ribbon in the big Mormon store and storehouse which had been filled with goods worth $2,000,000.

The subsequent history of the colony is suggestive of the wanderings of the Israelites. Bishop Call was a veritable Moses, but his rod was a repeating rifle and his decrees were enforced with a Colt six-shooter. Yet he and his people have never actually come to blows with Mexicans. With remarkable faith in their religion these Mormons have reserved their firearms solely for the protection of their persons, watching the plundering of their houses and farms in dumb resignation.

A month after the first exodus the men began to come back, and soon their families followed them from the tents of Uncle Sam. But on April 24, 1914, with their National Uncle at war with Victoriano Huerta, there was another exodus. This time few of the Mormons came back to their bone-bare village till the fall of 1915. But a few daring men and boys with a handful of brave women had remained through it all, and, with the aid of some of the poorer steeds from their own once numerous herds of horses which the

kind-hearted bandits had left them, they raised a hard-won crop. This harvest they counted on for the nourishment of themselves and their returning neighbors through the winter. But last September Francisco Villa came to fair, well-watered Dublan on his way to Sonora for what proved to be his last great effort to break Carranza's power and win the greatest prize of Mexican politics, recognition of the United States. With the puissant Pancho was his last army, 12,000 men and 3,000 women, all half starved and ripe for looting.

However, the Mormons still remember gratefully that that time there was much less stealing than they expected. Pancho Villa directed his people to pay for what they took, and, even though the payment was made in the worthless Villista paper currency, the Mormons gave him credit for good intentions.

Proving the fertility of its soil and the industry and economy of its men and women, Colonia Dublan supported those 15,000 hungry Villistas for twenty-five days.

When the army marched out into the mountains toward Sonora, three Mormon boys went as guides, leading the horde in which many a cavalier was astride a horse stolen from the Americans.

The battle of Agua Prieta on the American border settled Villa. It also left in his heart an undying hate for the gringoes with whom he had recently been so friendly, whose chiefs had given him many unofficial assurances that he was their favorite and would ultimately be recognized by the United States. Villa left the battlefield at Agua Prieta feeling that he had been "double-crossed." And we must admit that there was foundation for his bitterness. Villa lost the battle of Agua Prieta because Carranza troops had been permitted to pass through United States territory to take the Villistas on the flank. Villa left that battlefield cursing the gringoes up and down the whole sulphurous gamut of Mexican profanity and pledging the rest of his life to vengeance on the "traitorous Americans."

Our nationals in Mexico, including the Mormons at Colonia Dublan, soon felt the wrath of the once powerful general who had been restored to banditry. Villa himself cut back through the Sierra Madres south of Dublan, but a detachment of his ragged, hungry, enraged, and disappointed men descended on the little town with the eagerness of ravenous locusts, and they cleaned Dublan

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of everything edible as effectually as any swarming insect pests. Everything of value that had escaped the previous four years of plundering was taken now. Approaching the Mormons in an assumed air of friendliness, they asked to see all the firearms in the place. When the weapons were produced, they were promptly seized. Thus when later the Villistas, growing drunk, demanded that the Mormon women be brought to them, the men of the colony had only axes and pitchforks to defend their wives and daughters. But strategy proved stronger than force, and the women were smuggled into a shed where, hiding under straw, they escaped detection while the Villistas remained. How the men of the colony escaped assassination is inexplicable. The Villistas taunted, cursed, and threatened them as the sons of the nation that had betrayed their chief, but stopped just short of killing. Bishop Call attributes the escape to the "consistent neutrality of our colonists and the benevolence of God.”

I believe it was more due to their God than to their neutrality that the Mormons survived. Neutrality is never a thing to boast of with grace, and it may be suspected that sometimes the Mormons pursued their neutrality to the point of excessive submission. They are very reluctant to talk of their sufferings at the hands of the Mexicans, lest the vengeful arm of Villa should reach them even now, with our troops in Mexico. But one needs only eyes to get the tragic story of the rape of Colonia Dublan.

Where once were window-panes now are boards sealing the windows of houses, and even the outer windows of the combination church and school-house, which is now illuminated only by candles and by windows on an interior court.

Most of the houses are barred and Locked, but those wherein the brave men and women of the Mormon rear guard still linger to watch the property of the community are stripped of all ornaments and of all furniture but the most primitive pieces. Picture frames still hang on walls, but now frame only emptiness. In barn, corral, and pasture hobble the lame and halt cattle and horses which even Mexicans scorn to steal, the worthless remnant of former riches.

In spite of what they have suffered through five years of chaos, I met no Mormon who wanted Mexico annexed to the United States. But I met not one whose first wish was not for the establishment of a government that will make it safe for their wives, children, and old

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men to come back, and safe for them to begin the re-creation of such a paradise on earth as would again be a shining lure for every unrestrained thief and bandit. And I met not one who did not say that the withdrawal of our troops without the capture of Villa and the subsequent establishment of order would be the signal for that American to leave the village where most of his life had been spent, this time never to return unless a later Administration shouldered the burden which it seems the present Administration may shirk.

In this the Mormons were no different from the other Americans in Mexico. But the testimony of the Mormons is particularly valuable because certainly they cannot be called capitalists with axes to sharpen on the intervention grindstone. I had an experience that illustrated how all Americans in Mexico have suffered during the past five years. At Columbus, before entering Mexico, I bought a diminutive sorrel cow pony from a rancher, getting a bill of sale for him in due form. The day before I left Mexico I was about to sell the tough little animal to another correspondent, when a leather-faced, moist-eyed old American strolled up. Glancing at the pony, he started, and then drawled, "Thet's one o' my boy's hosses." I produced the bill of sale, and the old man was forced to admit that the horse bore the Circle and reversed B brand mentioned in the bill. But below the reversed B he pointed out a faint P, and several scouts in the crowd that had now gathered around us testified that a circle and a P was the brand of Arthur McKinney, son of this old man, William Q. McKinney. The reversed B had evidently been burnt into the broncho's hide later than the circle and the P. Arthur McKinney had been a cow-puncher and horse-owner. Three years ago his stock was driven off the range by bandits and he was warned never to return. He did return, and was shot by Villa a few months ago. Old man McKinney" was now in Mexico trying to recover what he could of his son's property. When the brand was identified, I was glad to turn over the pony to the brave old man. But the incident is a reminder of what the Americans in Mexico have suffered, and is a warning to those who would buy horses or cattle on the border. Caveat emptor!

To every American civilian I met in Mexico I put this question:

"What will you do if our soldiers leave Mexico with Villa still at large ?"

In substance all answered about like this: "If our army leaves without finishing its job, we will go too. Our army's job, as we see it, is not only to kill or capture Villa, but to kill or capture all the bandits that make life unsafe and peace impossible in Mexico. Killing Villa, or even killing all Villistas, will not settle it. There are other lawless elements in Mexico just as bad as the Villistas, although perhaps not so well led.

"Some of us have remained in Mexico in the past, ignoring President Wilson's advice to leave. But we know this country, and we know the spirit of its people. Many of them are honest and peace-loving. But there are many others of a different stripe, and they will make life here impossible for Americans if our soldiers leave without finishing their real job, as we see it, which is the definite dispersal of all lawless factions, and the definite establishment of law and order through the unlimited support of those elements in the Mexican population which really want peace."

The withdrawal of all Americans from Mexico in a sort of grand National scuttle might not daunt an Administration that has already advised them all to get out rather than take the responsibility of protecting them. But if the American public realizes what such an event would mean, perhaps the public, by the exertion of that mysterious force which sheer numbers have, would force the Government to protect its citizens.

Such a wholesale retrogression would mean, in the first place, practically the permanent loss of the property held by Americans now in Mexico.

In the second place, it would mean the loss of the lives and property of many Mexicans who have been friendly to our soldiers or to other foreigners. Many Mexicans of this class had left their country before the Columbus raids, willing to abandon their property if they could secure their lives. Not only Mexican capitalists and Mexican families whose sons have been murdered and whose daughters have been outraged are in this class. In El Paso I talked with the members of the orchestra which formerly made nights gay at Sternau's restaurant, the most luxurious eating-place in Torreon. They said that they had left that city because "Torreon is not safe for honest men."

Thirdly, and in the last place, the withdrawal of our soldiers from Mexico now would mean, not only the abandonment of our own citizens, but the abandonment of all foreigners, whom we are bound by the Monroe Doctrine to protect. It would mean the stultification of the Monroe Doctrine. It would cost us the slender shred of prestige which is all that our erratic foreign policy has left to us abroad.

That is what our immediate withdrawal from Mexico would mean. Before we give the order it is wisdom to inquire the

cost.

It

War kills off the best of a nation's manhood, therefore extra care must be exercised to save the child--not for its own sake or for its par ents' sake, but for the sake of the nation. has got to be saved-saved from infant mortality, then from ill health, and finally from drifting into being waste human material. Each individual must be mide healthy and strong, endowed with character for becoming a valuable citizen for the state. Women have here as big a national work open to them behind the scenes as the men have who are

Think

are in training in England; 130,000 are being fashioned into soldiers in Canada, and the Dominion is raising 250,000 more. of it, an army of 500,000 out of a population of little more than seven millions!

The women of Canada have taken upon themselves the duty of caring for every Canadian who offers his life in defense of the Empire. They care for him in the trench, in the hospital, in the prison camp. They have studied his every need, and provided for it. Theirs is a labor of love and tribute to the brave. Greater, far greater, is what they are doing for the women and children who are left at home. They have taken upon themselves the care, the protection, and the support of the wives, the widows, the children, and the dependents of the men who have been killed or maimed. They have done more. They have built up the greatest organization Canada has ever known. They are wiping out waste. They are making character. They are spending millions to save tens of millions. Ten thousand women or more who never suspected they had ability beyond the narrow lines of their homes have shown a business capacity, an organizing strength, and a perception far beyond anything men have demonstrated. Canada is giving an example to the whole of the British Empire-to the whole world, in fact.

To tell the story in detail would take a volume. It can be sketched only here.

There are a multitude of women's organizations in Canada. Among them are the Daughters of the Empire, the National Council of Women, the Canadian Red Cross, the Women's Christian Temperance Union, the Young Women's Christian Association, Queen Mary's Needlework Guild, the Soldiers' Wives League, St. John Ambulance Association, and numerous smaller bodies. These practically have co-operated and are working under one general plan. The whole Dominion is districted. There is a ward head in every city. There is an organization in every town and every village. They have grasped the great problems of the war as no other people have. They are not providing for the present alone, but for the period of readjustment when the war-worn men return. They have studied the psychic effect of war upon the soldier who returns able-bodied, just as they have studied the effect upon the soldier who is brought back wounded or with shattered nerves. They have studied the effect upon the mothers,

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the wives, the widows, and the children. They have brought order and system out of disorder. They have raised an unbelievable amount of money, and they have made provision to have the flow of money continue as long as the war lasts and longer. No problem is too difficult for them to solve, no work too hard for them to perform. What they are doing is voluntary.

Through what is known as the Patriotic Fund they care for the wives and the children of soldiers. There are some small towns in western Canada that have sent practically all their available young men into the army. This has left these towns with very little employment. It has been the women's problem to care for the families in these places. In the larger cities there has not been the same proportion of enrollment, but there the phases of the question have been more complex. In what they have done and what they are doing the women have been careful to show that their work is not one of charity, but an expression of sympathy and protection. and love of Canada for the family of its soldiers. Their work is one of service, of intimate social contact. They see that no one wants for food and clothing or medical attention or friendship by reason of the breadwinner's having gone to the defense of the Empire. They try to give to the families a new outlook upon life, and their endeavor is to build up a strong, self-reliant group of each and every family. Their work has proved wonderful in unifying Canada. They have brought all of the people, French Canadians and English Canadians, closely together. They have broken down class distinction. Race and creed mean nothing. The Empire, liberty, justice, free institutions, and free people mean everything. They are teaching the great lesson that if the Empire is worth dying for it is well worth living for, and that out of this great struggle there comes the opportunity for development into a higher citizenship of better men and better.

women.

Let us look at the ramifications of their work. First let us consider what they do for the fighting men. They have studied the needs of the man in the trench. They have records of every man who has entered the service of the King. They have records of every relative of that man. They keep a record of that man from the day he enters the service, through every move in his life as a soldier. They send to him his home

papers, magazines, tobacco, games, puzzles, clothing, candies, anything or everything to lighten the burden of his days and to make him know that those at home across the sea are watching over him with loving devotion. In conjunction with the Red Cross they watch over and care for every wounded man. They have hospitals in France and in England. They have scores of ambulances. They have scores of lorries. They have studied the need of the wounded man as the subject never was studied before. They have found that one of the first things the man who is wounded desires after his wounds are dressed is to write, so they have fixed up a portmanteau which contains a writing-pad, pencil, a few delicacies. They have provided also a kit to be put at the head of his cot which he can reach with ease, and into which he can place any little personal belongings that he treasures. They provide envelopes, postcards, everything the mind can suggest for him. Throughout Canada many thousands of women are working day after day for the comfort of the well and the wounded. They make sheets, bedding, towels, socks, surgical shirts, nightshirts. They cut up and put up into packages, gauze, cotton, lint, ligatures, bandages, splints, chloroform, ether, hot-water bottles. They have established great storehouses at Boulogne, in London, and in Canada to draw on in case of emergency, such as comes with the urgent call after a great engagement where the number of wounded to be treated is tremendous. They have advance storehouses near the fighting lines. To the wounded men they send magazines with all the advertising sheets torn out, so that they can get light reading, stories, etc. They see that each man gets a scrap-book in which the news from his home town is pasted. They send harmonicas, piccolos, and games to divert the mind in hours that otherwise would be dreary. Every wounded man has a supply of chocolate. He gets a tooth-brush, a safety razor, shaving soap, comb and brush, and toilet accessories that he never had in the trench. The women have tried to visualize the condition of the man from the day he leaves Canada until he returns, and out of their great love and their wonderful fund of common sense they provide for him.

It is so, too, with the man who is taken prisoner. Through the Red Cross they have made provision to feed every soldier of Canada who is interned in Germany and in Austria. They have arranged whereby bread

is baked at Berne, in Switzerland, and forwarded regularly to the prison camps in Germany. To the honor of the Germans be it said that the Canadians have ample proof that what they send goes to the man for whom it is intended. They even send candy. This is inclosed in special, hermetically sealed tins, and the sweets arrive fresh almost as the day they were made. They have arranged so that parcels can be sent to individual prisoners. They not only send food, but clothing, shoes, etc. They have arranged a system whereby any one in Canada can "adopt" and provide for a prisoner in Germany. They have been told over and over again in the letters they have received that if it were not for the gifts they send the men might starve or freeze. Hundreds of the prisoners have been adopted by kind-hearted Canadians, and their contributions go forward in regular order. The women have worked out all the details of organization themselves. They don't know how they did it, but it is the most businesslike system that ever has been evolved from the necessities of war.

The vast majority of women in Canada are sewing or working for the fighting men and the families of the soldiers. Each province has its Red Cross body. Every town has its organization for Red Cross work. How widespread this is may be imagined when it is said that in Nova Scotia alone there are two hundred and seventy towns in which practically all the women are doing work for the Empire. They are not doing this in any haphazard way. Each branch gets instructions in every form of its work, and information about the progress of every phase of the work. Bulletins come from headquarters regularly, advising all concerned of the operations of the gigantic undertaking the women are engaged in. The women have systematized their work in every department. They look after the boxing, shipping, the records, the sorting, the packing, the classifying, the stenciling. They have patterns and samples of every conceivable article that would be useful. They do the work for which they are best fitted. Halifax may serve as an example. In that city there are two manufacturing centers where the women gather to sew. In the Technical College from forty to one hundred women gather each day. There are probably five or six hundred women in that city who sew. Some give one day, some give two or more, and all give one evening a