five, but is more
probably fifteen. She acts as Adjutant to Madame, and rivals her
mother as deliverer of sustained and rapid recitative. She milks the
cows, feeds the pigs, and dragoons her young brothers and sisters. But
though she works from morning till night, she has always time for
a smiling salutation to all ranks. She also speaks English quite
creditably--a fact of which Madame is justly proud. "College!"
explains the mother, full of appreciation for an education which she
herself has never known, and taps her learned daughter affectionately
upon the head.

Next in order comes Emile. He must be about fourteen, but War has
forced manhood on him. All day long he is at work, bullying very large
horses, digging, hoeing, even ploughing. He is very much a boy, for
all that. He whistles excruciatingly--usually English music-hall
melodies--grins sheepishly at the officers, and is prepared at any
moment to abandon the most important tasks, in order to watch a man
cleaning a rifle or oiling a machine-gun. We seem to have encountered
Emile in other countries than this.

After Emile, Gabrielle. Her age is probably seven. If you were to give
her a wash and brush-up, dress her in a gauzy frock, and exchange
her thick woollen stockings and wooden sabots for silk and dancing
slippers, she would make a very smart little fairy. Even in her native
state she is a most attractive young person, of an engaging coyness.
If you say: "Bonjour, Gabrielle!" she whispers: "B'jour M'sieur le
Capitaine"--or, "M'sieur le Caporal"; for she knows all badges of
rank--and hangs her head demurely. But presently, if you stand quite
still and look the other way, Gabrielle will sidle up to you and
squeeze your hand. This is gratifying, but a little subversive of
strict discipline if you happen to be inspecting your platoon at the
moment.

Gabrielle is a firm favourite with the rank and file. Her particular
crony is one Private Mackay, an amorphous youth with flaming red hair.
He and Gabrielle engage in lengthy conversations, which appear to be
perfectly intelligible to both, though Mackay speaks with the solemn
unction of the Aberdonian, and Gabrielle prattles at express speed
in a _patois_ of her own. Last week some unknown humorist, evidently
considering that Gabrielle was not making sufficient progress in her
knowledge of English, took upon himself to give her a private lesson.
Next morning Mackay, on sentry duty at the farm gate, espied his
l