we had been feeding on bully beef--bully beef out of a tin.
Four men on guard, a dozen chickens perched not a dozen feet away. Would
abstemiousness be human? Ask yourselves, _mes amies_.

We drew lots. My luck had turned. But I ate of it. It was tender; it was
good; it was roasted to a turn.

They say dead men tell no tales. Of dead chicken there is no such proverb.
Wish there had been. We buried those feathers deep. Alas, that Monsieur, in
common with all the folk in Northern France, was so thorough in his
cataloguing of his properties. I don't blame him. He had dealt with Germans
when they overran the territory. He had met with Belgians when they
hastened forward. He had had experience of his own countrymen when they
endeavored to drive back the enemy. He had billeted the Imperial British
soldier. Now he was confronted with a soldier of whom he had no report,
save only the name--Canadian. Monsieur had counted his chickens before they
were perched.

We had not yet had read or explained to us the laws and penalties attaching
to such a crime while on active service. Of course, no one killed that
chicken. No one ate it. No one knew anything about it. We were perfectly
willing, if need be, to pay double price for the chicken rather than have
such a term as "chicken thief" leveled at us. We of the guard, however,
protested, but paid five francs each to smooth the matter over. This
totaled about four dollars.

The next morning the whole battalion was lined up before the colonel while
the adjutant read aloud the law which we boys term the "riot act." This
document informed us very clearly that if any soldier was found to have
taken anything from the peasantry for his own use; if any man was found
drunk on active service, or if he committed any other crime or offense
which might be counted as minor to these two, the punishment for a first
offense would be six months first field punishment. For any offense of a
similar nature thereafter the man would be liable to court martial and
death.

While this paper was being read, I shook in my boots, to think that I had
been--innocently or at least ignorantly--associated with what was probably
the first crime of our battalion.

[Illustration: On our way]

We went back to billets a very subdued lot of soldiers.

Later in the day I noticed a lot of boys talking to a young Belgian girl. I
had no opportunity to speak to her then, but after a time I found her
alone, and with the li