Ruth Fielding at the War Front - Alice B. Emerson - Bog

" It was a midwinter day, yet the air was balmy. The trees were bare-limbed but with a haze clothing them in the distance that seemed almost that of returning verdure. The grass, even in mid-winter, showed green. A bird sang lustily in the hedge.
Up the grassy lane walked a girl in the costume of the active Red Cross worker¿an intelligent looking girl with a face that, although perhaps not perfect in form, was possessed of an expression that was alluring.
Neither observant man nor woman would have passed her, even in a crowd, without a second glance. There was a cheerful light in her eye and a humorous curve to her not too-full lips that promised an uplifting spirit within her even in serious mood.
It seemed as though this day and its apparent peace must breed happiness, although it was but a respite in the middle of winter. The balmy air, the chirrup of the bird, the far flung reaches of the valley which she could see from this mounting lane, all delighted the senses and soothed the spirit.
Suddenly, with an unexpectedness that was shocking, there was a tremor in the air and the echo of a rumbling sound beneath the girl's feet. The crack of a distant explosion followed. Then another, and another, until the sound became a continual grumble of angry explosions, resonant and threatening.
The girl did not stop, but the expression of her face lost its cheerfulness. The song of the bird was cut off sharply. It seemed as though the sun itself began drawing a veil over his face. The peaceful mood of nature was shattered."