who had laid in a supply of cut wood on his roof to the height
of several feet above the irregular parapet. Outside one of the narrow
vertical slits, which in ages past had served as vantage point for a
vizored knight fitting arrow to bow, hung a parrot cage. "Coco" was
chattering Marseilles sailor French.

A single gargoyle remained. It was a panther, elongated like a
dachshund. He was desecrated and humiliated by having tied around his
middle the end of the clothesline that stretched across the alley. This
proved, however, that he still held firmly his place. The panther,
ignoring change of fortune, looked down as of yore, snarling, and with
whiskers stiffened to indicate that if he had been given hind legs, they
would be ready for a spring. So worn was the gargoyle that ears and chin
and part of forehead had disappeared. But you can see the snarl just as
you can see the Sphinx's smile. When a thing is well done, it is done
for all time. If a poor workman had fashioned that gargoyle, there would
have been no panther and no snarl when it was put up there. But a master
worked the stone, and what he wrought is ineradicable. It will disappear
only with the stone itself. When we speak of ruins, we mean that a part
of the material used in expressing a conception has not resisted climate
and age and earthquake and vandalism. Armless, Venus de Milo is still
the perfect woman. Headless, Nike of Samothrace is still symbolic of the
glory of prevailing.

In the morning, before reaching St. Raphael, we passed an African soldier
limping along the dusty road. He was dispirited even to the crumpled
look of his red fez, and the sun, shining mercilessly, glinted from his
rifle-barrel to the beads of perspiration on the back of his neck. We
were going fast, and had just time to wave gayly to cheer him up. He did
not return our salute. This struck us as strange. Fearing that he might
be ill, we made the _cocher_ turn round, and went back to pick him up.
He declared that a sprained ankle made it impossible for him to keep up
with his regiment, which had been marching since early morning. He was
grateful for the lift, and beamed when we assured him that we could take
him as far as St. Raphael. At that time we were not thinking of going to
Frejus, the garrison town of the African troops. When we overtook the
regiment and reached his company, we tried to intercede with the French
sergeant. The sergeant was adamant an