nd.

"I too have relatives in the battle line," he said. "My brother and
cousins are there, and I should be with them now were it not for an ugly
wound I got at the Marne. They will not take me back to fight, even
though I have begged to go. And so here I am--restless and half angry
that I must remain boxed up at Saint Michel and make silk instead of
being where the firing is going on. Yet some must stay behind and carry
on the country's industries. Perhaps I can still do my bit here. I have
tried to be philosophical about it and work as hard as I can, for I feel
that those who cannot help in one way can, maybe, help in another."

He glanced at the card Pierre had brought.

"Bretton is your name?"

"Pierre Bretton."

"Monsieur Leclerq says your shipment of cocoons was a good contribution
to the prosperity of France."

Pierre flushed.

"I am glad if it seemed so. We must support ourselves--my mother,
sister, and I--and not be a burden to the country while my father is
away."

"That's the right spirit," answered the foreman heartily. "And so you
want to see your silk reeled off--yours, or somebody's else? Well, you
shall. I am busy myself and so cannot go with you; but Henri, one of our
boys, shall take you with him and tell you all you wish to know. Do not
fear to ask questions if you do not understand, for Henri is well able
to answer them. He knows everything that anybody can about silk
reeling."

As he beckoned to a tall, slender boy who sat at a desk opposite the
foreman smiled kindly down at Pierre.

"Henri," he continued when the employee approached, "I want you to show
this young silk-raising friend of ours, Monsieur Bretton, how we sort
cocoons and reel them off. Tell him everything you can, for he is a
grower and has the right to know."

"Mais, oui, avec beaucoup de plaisir," answered the boy. "I will do my
best." He bowed to the foreman, who, after shaking Pierre by the hand,
turned away. "Now Monsieur Bretton----"

"My name is Pierre. No one ever called me Monsieur Bretton before, and I
do not like it," protested Pierre smiling. "I am but a boy like
yourself. Please call me by my first name--if you do not mind."

Henri beamed on him.

"I should like it much better," he replied cordially. "And I am Henri
St. Amant. Now it is all understood, is it not? Shall we begin then our
journey through the filature? We will go into the sorting rooms first,
where the cocoons that are sent to us are classi