reaches I see
Lost friends, with laughter, come flocking
To give a glad welcome to me.
Farewell, the maze has been threaded,
This is the ending of strife;
Say not that death should be dreaded,
'Tis but the beginning of life.

THE THIRTEENTH REGIMENT

The World War has shown clearly that all peoples are not alike, that
they do not think alike, that they do not feel in the same way about
the great things of life and death, and that they do not live alike.
England felt very differently from Germany about invading a state whose
neutrality both nations had guaranteed.

The difference is largely due to education in the home, the church, and
the school; but it is also the result of heredity. Races seem to
differ naturally in regard to these things. The Germans have always
been cruel, hard, and unmerciful, while the French are tender and
inclined to be too easy, even with wrongdoers. The Slav is dreamy,
musical, and poetic, while the Bulgarians seek to gain their ends by
deceit and brute force. In thinking of the nations and the peoples of
the Balkan peninsula, we must be sure to distinguish clearly between
them, for they are not at all alike.

Only at the beginning and at the end of the World War have we heard
much of Serbia. At the beginning, two Serbians, who were, however,
Austrian subjects, assassinated the Crown Prince of Austria, Archduke
Franz Ferdinand, and his wife, on June 28, 1914, at Sarajevo, the
capital of Bosnia, an Austrian province. Whether the war had been
already planned or not, this assassination was used as a reason for
Austria's attack upon Serbia.

General Putnik, a great commander, was put in charge of the Serbian
troops. As General Joffre did in France, he retired before the greatly
superior numbers of the enemy, until he was in a position to
counterattack and win a victory. Joffre was thus able to save his
country from being entirely devastated and defeated, but General Putnik
was not. Instead the Serbian army disappeared as a determining force,
until near the end of the war when it helped to bring Bulgaria to her
knees.

The Serbians sing as they go into battle, for, as has been said, they
are an imaginative and a musical people. The heroes of today are
blended in their visions with the Serbian heroes of ancient days, and
their battle songs are of them both, or first of one and then of the
other.

As they went into their last victorious battles in 1918 a