With Those Who Wait

the motor horns of the Boulevards Exterieurs, formed a gigantic characteristic medley, have long since died away. The night restaurants are now turned into workrooms and popular soup kitchens

bsence has created, delights in the remembrance of every instant, dreams but of the moment when he shall again be part of the light-hearted throngs who composed the society of the Butte. Time and again I have seen heavy army trucks lumbering down the avenue, bea

ch the gradual fairy-like illumination of the panorama that stretched out before us. The little restaurant has closed its doors, but the vision from the terrace is perhaps more majestic, for as the last golden rays of twilig

on whose site a whole new white stone quarter had been projected, is now but a mass of half finished, abandoned foundati

guerre the

e afternoon, and discovered two hostil

uld have to be deferred, but so violent was the love of fray that it was soon decided that

t dismissed occupies the better positions. The other

trols advanced into No Man's Land, crawling and crouching until wi

an important looking twelve year old General

ilence

swer, turn him upsid

er was

ieks of "Boche! Boche!-it's only

ly developing cerebral congestio

m right

but still held a firm grip o

ny of you are ther

n if there are many like you!" shrie

s due all prisoners," ordered the General, whose eye had caugh

ding over some 'coal scuttles.' Dig in I say and k

Michaud. He

the connecting trench to the

aving subsided, the General m

ed. "Get in at them quick. Go to it, I say. Don't you se

. They're pounding on

rence does

shed. But their determination was soon rewarded, for the patent "Seventy Fives," represe

General grabbed up a basket an

. Let them approach quite close and then each one of you choose yo

brusque matters and attack. He left his trenches shouting, "Vi

u ready? Fire!" co

d bearer having received one juicy missile full in the face, dropped his emblem and stared wild-eyed about him. From the head and hair of the e

they're ours," shrieked the delighted commander, who owe

he mêlée was hot and ferocious, many a patch or darn bei

hief. And here too, little Michaud, his pate enveloped in so many yards of bandage that he seemed to be all turban, sat on an impromptu cot, smiling benignly while devouring a

ichaud's person at the very outbreak of hostilities, so, therefore, when the sto

ed a bit in order to communicate w

ee! I know a shop on the Avenue de Clichy where you can get rotten

ause they are living it. Even those who are so fortunate as to recall the happy times when there was no

, just as the words, "guns, shells, aeroplanes and gas," form the very elements of their education. The better informed instruct the others, and it is no

ur and the debouchoir are not the same thing. Not by a long sight!

out for us on the blackboard the last time he was home on leave? What do yo

budding heroes. On the contrary, it i

I encountered a ten year old lad, dashing forw

the opposite curb. The children addressed (one may have been five, the other seven, or thereabouts) immed

ats in Flanders

ve, in an intense effort of attention. Their mouths gaped unconsciously. One fe

aris," continued the reader. "We progressed slightly to the East of Mort Homme, and t

Alsace," piped

e's in t

r. "Isn't mine at Verdun?" and then p

paper and prepa

s good-we s

d a wonderful, broad, angelic smile spread out over their fresh baby faces; a s

ARD IN M

," I explained, "beca

e entire social scale the child

iolet ink on one cheek, I found little Jules Gau

ou doing th

in my boo

re you

, everything I

g an anecdote which he had just heard some

d General de Castelnau, 'Well, General,

y sons, Mr.

o you write such t

ut down everything I know or he

plans for aeroplanes that he had drawn, were copies of extraordinar

nette, aged five, to their little country home on the seashore in Brittany. The

s and her infant son, so that Annette, clad in a bathing suit and sweater, spent

bread, chocolate and other dainties provided for the gouter of their own offspring, and as the child gladly and

your mot

home, v

ry, what's the trouble-

has had her three brothers kille

terrible! An

One of his brothers was killed and the other

he good ladies sought to penetrate her seclusion, offe

y my smiling, blond-haired friend, who failed t

for their trouble, at the same time explaining that neither she nor her husban

her tearful progeny was led forward. "You wic

s; her whole body fairly con

t once! Do y

d out, "Oh, mamma, I just couldn't help it! All the others were so proud

l generation. Poor little things who never knew what "play" meant, at a time when life should have been

n years of age at the outbreak of the

leave school or college, and hasten to the counter or the plough. And not only have they been called upon to furnish the helping hand, but in t

, I found it necessary to change or replace certain electric l

hall send some one

y maid announced L

old, who might easily have passed for twelve, so slight was his build. His long, pale,

bring a

, I am Monsieur

father is c

My oldest brother is in the artillery, and the second one has just left for

ld are

lass of 1923," cam

ght in then, I'll s

a note book, tapped on the partitions, sounded the

that's necessary. I'll be back t

epit, coughing, asthmatic specimen of humanity, who was hardly w

sary to stretch out and raise our double extension

rtally offended the manager of the Maison Bincteux. He stiffened every muscle, gave a supreme effo

ng, he made his calculations,

ere, to the left and we'll put the switches to the right, just ab

mbled somethin

t. You're better off here than in the trenches, are

to be at the front at his age, fairly suffocated th

s father and grandfather before him-but I've never seen his like! Why only this very mor

d matters in detail with this awe inspiring person-objected, retaliated, and finally terminated his affairs,

the colours. All these lads are the little fellows we used to know in short trousers; the rascals who not so many summers since climbed to the house-tops, swun

romantic little natures that would kiss your hand with so much ceremony and politeness, blushing

e sacrifice, well knowing from father, brothers or friends who have gone before, all the g

the army long before their Class was called. Madame de Martel's grandson, the sons of Monsieur Barthou, Louis Morin,

ill tell you the

ents; did everything to keep him here; all to no avail. There was jus

t all would be over by the time the "baby" had succeeded. But, lo! the baby, unknown to his parents, worked nights, skipped a yea

wo elder sons have already been killed, there rem

, and then began a regime of overfeeding, physical exercises, and m

is present when the

nthusiastic father, while on the lashes of the smiling mother

red fire burns in their eyes, their speech is pondered but passionate. They

elong to the Class

are so childlike and

cure corner, who, his back turned to us, was finishing with vigorous appetite,

ad to see some one who lov

d a few minutes. Then prese

der, smiled and disappeared. A moment later s

se cakes too had gone the

he face of this robust sweet tooth,

and white beardless countenance, that might have belonged to a boy of fifteen-suddenly grown to a man duri

e never before had been allowed out alone with sufficient funds to gratify his youthful passion for sweetme

Militaire-probably on account of the gr