Letters supposed to be found in the pockets of dead Germans are in great request.

There are letters from mothers, from sisters, and from the Gretchens who are, in the popular mind, supposed to adore warriors.

Unless every corpse has half a dozen mothers, and was loved when in the flesh by a dozen sweethearts, many of these letters must be fabricated.

They vary in their style very little.

The German mothers give little domestic details about the life at home, and express the greatest dread lest their sons should fall victims to the valour of the Parisians, which is filling the Fatherland with terror and admiration.