rd how one Englishman had been sent into a far
hospital in Provence by mistake. He was not seriously injured, and
promptly constituted himself king of the ward. On arrival, he insisted
on being shaved. As no shaving-brush was available, the _piou-piou_ in
the next bed lathered him with his tooth-brush. The French cooking did
not appeal to him, and he grumbled continuously. The directress of the
hospital sent her own cook from her chateau to cater for Mr. Atkins. An
elaborate menu was prepared. Tommy glanced through it, ordered
everything to be removed, and commanded tea and toast. Toast-making is
not a French art, and the chateau chef was obliged to remain at the
hospital and spend his time carefully preparing the toast and seeing
that it was served in good condition. When Mr. Atkins felt so disposed,
he would summon a _piou-piou_ to give him a French lesson, or else
request the various inmates of the ward to sing to him. He would in turn
render that plaintive ditty "Down by the Old Bull and Bush." A nurse who
spoke a little English translated his song to the French soldiers.
Whilst not desiring to criticise the _rendez-vous_ selected by their
_camarade anglais_, they did not consider that "pres d'un vieux taureau"
(near an old bull) was a safe or desirable meeting-place. When I
explained to the nurse that "The Bull and Bush" was a kind of _cabaret_,
she hastened from ward to ward to tell the men that after all the
Englishman might have selected a worse spot to entertain his girl. He
was at once the joy and the despair of the whole hospital, and the nurse
had much trouble in consoling the patients when "our English" was
removed.

When Tommy indulges in the use of the French language, he abbreviates it
as much as possible.

One hot summer's day, driving from Boulogne to Fort Mahon, halfway down
a steep hill we came upon two Tommies endeavouring to extract a
motor-cycle and a side-car from a somewhat difficult position. They had
side-slipped and run into a small tree. The cycle was on one side and
the side-car on the other, and a steel rod between had been rammed right
into the wood through the force of the collision.

My three companions and myself endeavoured to help the men to pull out
the rod, but the united efforts of the six of us proved unavailing. We
hailed a passing cart and tied the reins around the motor-cycle, but
immediately the horse commenced to pull the leather of the reins
snapped. Behind the cart walk