certificates--for not every chance dog is allowed in the trenches--and
are dispatched to the trenches on a rat-hunting campaign.

From Sezanne we proceeded direct to the new camp for German prisoners at
Cannantre. The prisoners were mostly men who had been taken in the
recent fighting on the Somme or round Verdun. The camp was already
excellently installed, and the prisoners were busy in groups gardening,
making bread, or sitting before great heaps of potatoes, preparing them
for the evening meal. The German sense of order was everywhere in
evidence. In the long barracks where the men slept the beds were tidy,
and above each bed was a small shelf, each shelf arranged in exactly
the same order, the principal ornaments being a mug, fork, and spoon;
and just as each bed resembled each other bed, so the fork and spoon
were placed in their respective mugs at exactly the same angle. There
were small partitioned apartments for the noncommissioned officers. The
French Commander of the camp told us that the German love of holding
some form of office was everywhere apparent. The French made no attempt
to command the prisoners themselves, but always chose men from amongst
the prisoners who were placed in authority over their comrades. The
prisoners rejoiced exceedingly and promptly increased in self-importance
and, alas! decreased in manners, if they were given the smallest
position which raised them above the level of the rest of the men.

In the barrack where they were cutting up bread for the prisoners, we
asked the men if they deeply regretted their captivity. They replied
unanimously that they were "rather glad to be well fed," which seemed an
answer in itself. They did not, however, appreciate the white bread and
stated that they preferred their own black bread. The French officers
commanding the camp treat the prisoners as naughty children who must be
"kept in the corner" and punished for their own good. In all my travels
through France I have never seen any bitterness shown towards the
prisoners. I remember once at Nevers we passed a group of German
prisoners, and amongst them was a wounded man who was lying in a small
cart. A handbag had fallen across his leg, and none of his comrades
attempted to remove it. A French woman, pushing her way between the
guards, lifted it off and gave it to one of the Germans to carry. When
the guards tried to remonstrate, she replied simply, "J'ai un fils
prisonnier la-bas, faut esperer qu