LADY BURGHOLERE'S PRISONERS' FUND. [To THE EDITOR Olf TIIH "SPECTATOR. "]
Sin,—A short time ago you kindly published an appeal for my Fund for prisoners of war in Germany—Lady Burg hclere's Prisoners' Fund. To-day it is my pleasant duty to ask you to convey to your readers my most grateful thanks for the noble response they have made to that appeal. I feel sure they will
be glad to hear that owing to their generosity many a poor lad, who counts on the arrival of " parcels," not only as the means to " carry on," but also as the single break in the deadly monotony of camp life, need not go sad and hungry—just, too, as it happens, at Christmas time. Of course, Christmas is not the end of the winter, and my list of prisoners is, alas ! increas- ing, not decreasing. For every one to whom I send there are three who beg for help and require help. Still, I can only repeat from my heart the grace of our childhood : "For what I have received I am most truly thankful," as I shall ever be —greedy though this may sound—for any further donations, which I shall be equally ready to receive. And, meanwhile, I am sure I shall not be exceeding the mandate of subscribers if the Christmas parcels are so contrived as to include that plum pudding—it will be quite a small one—without which we of Great Britain would hardly feel we had duly celebrated the great festival of Goodwill.
Once more, h owever, 1 should like to assure my contributors, who may be alarmed by these lavish views regarding Christmas fare, that in giving to my Fund they need not fear " over- lapping." I take no steps without securing the fullest official information and approval. As for the need of the work, I think I cannot do better than quote the letter of a N.C.O. recently received. Since Mons—since the immortal retreat— the writer and his comrades have been prisoners. It was in 'June, 1915, that the parcels reached his camp :—
"1 shall always keep your first postcard," he wrote, "saying you was sending them [the men] parcels and was going to take care of them ; it was a pleasure to see their faces when I told them. But when the parcels did arrive I cannot express their feelings. Some or them had not received anything from home, so we all had a good feed, and left all cure behind."
Sir, your readers have been very good to these men, but even such goodness as theirs must feel rewarded by this tribute. No words of mine could add to its force.—I am, Sir, Stc., [We are not going to say for the present how much money Lady Burghclere hue received from our readers, lest people who do not realize the greatness of the need should imagine that she must have enough. She has not received enough, or
anything like it, though the generosity of those who have responded to her appeal has been splendid. The need for farther help is very great indeed. We do hope most sincerely, then, that she will obtain further help from readers of the Spectator. Let any one try to think what the prisoners' life is like, and then imagine, quite apart from any question of hunger and physical need, what it must be to get one of the parcels and to feel: "After all, they do remember me. I'm not chucked aside and done with. There is somebody in England who does seem to know and care how hungry and dull and wretched we are, and who is going to help us to stick it out." We cannot turn a deaf ear.—ED. Spectator.]
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