nice
chap; he is a noble, a vicomte--a millionaire."

So you see I have found the type--not quite in the infantry ranks, but
almost, and if I found one there must be plenty more. It consoled me
in these days when one hears so often cries against "les
embusques."

I began to think there was every type in the world in this famous
118th, and I was not far from wrong.

The very next day I got the most delicious type of all--the French-
American--very French to look at, but with New York stamped all over
him--especially his speech. Of all these boys, this is the one I wish
you could see.

Like all the rest of the English-speaking Frenchmen--the Canadian
excepted--he brought a comrade to hear him talk to the lady in
English. I really must try to give you a graphic idea of that
conversation.

When I opened the door for him, he stared at me, and then he threw
up both hands and simply shouted, "My God, it is true! My God, it is
an American!!"

Then he thrust out his hand and gave me a hearty shake, simply
yelling, "My God, lady, I'm glad to see you. My God, lady, the sight is
good for sore eyes."

Then he turned to his comrade and explained, "J'ai dit a la dame,
'Mon Dieu, Madame,'" etc., and in the same breath he turned back to
me and continued:

"My God, lady, when I saw them Stars and Stripes floating out there, I
said to my comrade, 'If there is an American man or an American
lady here, my God, I am going to look at them,' and my God, lady, I'm
glad I did. Well, how do you do, anyway?"

I told him that I was very well, and asked him if he wouldn't like to
come in.

"My God, lady, you bet your life I do," and he shook my hand again,
and came in, remarking, "I'm an American myself--from New York--
great city, New York--can't be beat. I wish all my comrades could see
Broadway--that would amaze them," and then he turned to his
companion to explain, "J'ai dit a Madame que je voudrais bien que
tous les copains pouvaient voir Broadway--c'est la plus belle rue de
New York--ils seront epates--tous," and he turned to me to ask
"N'est-ce pas, Madame?"

I laughed. I had to. I had a vivid picture of his comrades seeing New
York for the first time--you know it takes time to get used to the Great
White Way, and I remembered the last distinguished Frenchman
whom the propaganda took on to the great thoroughfare, and who, at
the first sight and sound and feel of it, wanted to lay his head up
against Times Square and sob like