tte au canon, marching
and counter-marching in the cold sunshine, looking in the distance
more like troops of Louis XIII than an evolution from the French
conscript of the ante-bellum days of the pantalon rouge.

Two days later we had the most magnificent prise d'armes on the
same plain that I have ever seen, much more stirring--though less
tear-moving--than the same ceremony in the courtyard of the
Invalides at Paris, where most foreigners see it. At the Invalides one
sees the mutiles and the ill. Here one only saw the glory. In Paris, the
galleries about the court, inside the walls of the Soldiers' Home, are
packed with spectators. Here there were almost none. But here the
heroes received their decorations in the presence of the comrades
among whom they had been won, in the terrible battles of Verdun. It
was a long line of officers, and men from the ranks, who stood so
steadily before the commander and his staff, inside the hollow
square, about the regimental colors, to have their medals and
crosses fastened on their faded coats, receive their accolade, and
the bravos of their companions as their citations were read. There
were seven who received the Legion d'Honneur.

It was a brave-looking ceremony, and it was a lovely day--even the
sun shone on them.

There was one amusing episode. These celebrations are always a
surprise to the greater part of the community, and, in a little place like
this, it is only by accident that anyone sees the ceremony. The
children are always at school, and the rest of the world is at work, so,
unless the music attracts someone, there are few spectators. On the
day of the prise d'armes three old peasants happened to be in a field
on the other side of the route nationale, which skirts the big plain on
the plateau. They heard the music, dropped their work and ran
across the road to gape. They were all men on towards eighty--too
old to have ever done their military service. Evidently no one had
ever told them that all Frenchmen were expected to uncover when
the flag went by. Poor things, they should have known! But they
didn't, and you should have seen a colonel ride down on them. I
thought he was going to cut the woollen caps off their heads with his
sabre, at the risk of decapitating them. But I loved what he said to
them.

"Don't you know enough to uncover before the flag for which your
fellow citizens are dying every day?"

Isn't that nice? I loved the democratic "fellow citizens"