n bon_?" I assented gratefully,
was handed the pass and fled. It requires some courage to face four
officials in order to have a bath.

Arrived at the said train, one climbed up a step-ladder in to a truck
divided into four partitions, and Ziske, a deaf old Flamand, carried
buckets of boiling water from the engine and we added what cold we
wanted ourselves. You will therefore see that when anyone asked you what
you were doing in your free time that day and you said you were "going
to have a bath," it was understood that it meant the whole afternoon
would be taken up.

At first we noticed the French people seemed a little stiff in their
manner and rather on the defensive. We wondered for some time what could
be the reason, and chatting one day with Madame at the dug-out I
mentioned the fact to her.

"See you, Mademoiselle, it is like this," she explained, "you others,
the English, had this town many years ago, and these unlettered ones,
who read never the papers and know nothing, think you will take
possession of the town once again." Needless to say in time this
impression wore off and they became most friendly.

The Place d'Armes was a typical French marketplace and very picturesque.
At one corner of the square stood the town hall with a turret and a very
pretty Carillon called "Jolie Annette," since smashed by a shell. I
asked an old shopkeeper why the Carillon should be called by that name
and he told me that in 1600 a well-to-do _commercant_ of the town had
built the turret and promised a Carillon only on the condition that it
should be a line from a song sung by a fair lady called "Jolie Annette,"
performing at a music hall or Cafe Chantant in the town at that time.
The inhabitants protested, but he refused to give the Carillon unless he
could have his own way, which he ultimately did. Can't you imagine the
outraged feelings of the good burghers? "_Que voulez-vous,
Mademoiselle_," the old man continued, shrugging his shoulders, "_Jolie
Annette ne chante pas mal, hein?_" and I agreed with him.

I thought it was rather a nice story, and I often wondered, when I
heard that little song tinkling out, exactly what "Jolie Annette" really
looked like, and I quite made up my mind on the subject. Of course she
had long side curls, a slim waist, lots of ribbons, a very full skirt,
white stockings, and a pair of little black shoes, and last but not
least, a very bewitching smile. It is sad to think that a shell has
silen