of the reveille, and
from all parts of the city the church bells jangled out the call for
early mass, and the little world of Santa Clara seemed to stretch itself
and to wake to welcome the day just begun.

But as I fell in at the rear of the procession and looked back, the
figure of the young Cuban, who was no longer a part of the world of Santa
Clara, was asleep in the wet grass, with his motionless arms still
tightly bound behind him, with the scapular twisted awry across his face,
and the blood from his breast sinking into the soil he had tried to free.

THE GREEK-TURKISH WAR: THE BATTLE OF VELESTINOS {2}

The Turks had made three attacks on Velestinos on three different days,
and each time had been repulsed. A week later, on the 4th of May, they
came back again, to the number of ten thousand, and brought four
batteries with them, and the fighting continued for two more days. This
was called the second battle of Velestinos. In the afternoon of the 5th
the Crown Prince withdrew from Pharsala to take up a stronger position at
Domokos, and the Greeks under General Smolenski, the military hero of the
campaign, were forced to retreat, and the Turks came in, and, according
to their quaint custom, burned the village and marched on to Volo. John
Bass, the American correspondent, and myself were keeping house in the
village, in the home of the mayor. He had fled from the town, as had
nearly all the villagers; and as we liked the appearance of his house, I
gave Bass a leg up over the wall around his garden, and Bass opened the
gate, and we climbed in through his front window. It was like the
invasion of the home of the Dusantes by Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine,
and, like them, we were constantly making discoveries of fresh
treasure-trove. Sometimes it was in the form of a cake of soap or a tin
of coffee, and once it was the mayor's fluted petticoats, which we tried
on, and found very heavy. We could not discover what he did for pockets.
All of these things, and the house itself, were burned to ashes, we were
told, a few hours after we retreated, and we feel less troubled now at
having made such free use of them.

On the morning of the 4th we were awakened by the firing of cannon from a
hill just over our heads, and we met in the middle of the room and
solemnly shook hands. There was to be a battle, and we were the only
correspondents on the spot. As I represented the London _Times_, Bass
was the only rep