he green color ran down on my
window. I had to wash it, and accidentally I rubbed off a corner of the
poster. It can't be very good paper." She looked solemnly at Pierre.
"Too bad, isn't it?" she said, and closed one eye behind her round
spectacles.

"The weather seems to have damaged a good many of them, I notice,"
answered Mother Meraut, with just a suspicion of a smile. "The weather
has been quite pleasant too,--strange!"

"Weather--nothing!" said Pierre, scornfully. "I'll bet you that--"

It seemed as if Pierre was always being interrupted at just the most
exciting moment of his remarks, but this time he interrupted himself.
"What's that?" he said, stopping short. Madame Coudert, his Mother, and
Pierrette, all stood perfectly still, their eyes wide, their lips
parted, listening, listening! They heard cannon-shots, then
music--toward the west--coming nearer--nearer.

"It is--oh, it is the Marseillaise!" shrieked Pierrette.

Mother Meraut and the Twins ran toward the sound. Now shouts were
heard--joyous shouts--from French throats! Never had they heard such a
sound! People came tumbling out of their houses, some not fully
dressed--but who cared? The French were returning victorious from the
battle of the Marne. They were coming again into Rheims, driving the
Germans before them! Ah, but when the red trousers actually appeared in
the streets the populace went mad with joy! They embraced the soldiers;
they marched beside them with tears streaming down their cheeks,
singing "March on! March on!" as though they would split their throats.
Pierre and Pierrette marched and sang with the others, their Mother
close beside them.

On and on came the singing, joy-maddened people, right past Madame
Coudert's shop, and there, standing on the curb, with a tray in her
arms piled high with goodies, was Madame Coudert herself. The green
poster was already torn in shreds and lying in the gutter. It even
looked as if some one had stamped on it, and above her door waved the
tricolor of France! "Come here," she cried to Pierre and Pierrette,
"Quick! Hand these out to the soldiers as long as there's one left!"

Pierre seized a pink frosted cake, and ran with it to a Captain.
Pierrette gave a sugar roll to the first soldier she could reach; other
hands helped. Mother Meraut ran into the shop and brought out more
cakes. Shop-keepers all along the way followed Madame Coudert's
example, and soon people everywhere were bringing offerings