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 A moment's stillness, a silent prayer, a few more words of comfort, and a quiet, thoughtful man went out upon the street with the truth for his companion.

The address of a Comforts Forwarding Committee was left by a War Relief Worker at the Custom House, together with the assurance that any needy one would there find help. The interested yeowoman put the card on file. Several months later a young enlisted seaman told her his story. He had been ordered for duty on one of the Canadian drifters, so-called—a fleet of patrol boats, dirty, cramped, repelling. He would be stationed in icy waters for six months. His aunt had expected to meet him with a package from the Red Cross, but had been unable to get a sweater or other articles, and he must sail without them. With joy the yeowoman recalled the card on file, and the boy appeared without delay at the distributing rooms. After a brief but heart-to-heart talk with the woman in charge, the boy went out, carrying with him not only a good supply of knitted wear, but also an illuminating pamphlet. The following day three of his comrades appeared, asking, first of all, for pamphlets, and specifying that they be different from the one given yesterday's boy. This group was quickly followed by another, until more than thirty of the officers and men, all of them fellows of the finer type but most unhappily placed, were supplied with all the physical and mental comforts the Committee had to offer. Expressions of true appreciation came later from the yeowoman and the boys; but the greatest gratitude was felt by the Scientists themselves; not only were they supplied with garments that it was a pleasure to give away, but of far greater import was the fact that the Comforter