evilliers, a
place of approximately twenty thousand inhabitants. In happier and less
chaotic times one might have spent a pleasant and profitable day, or
perhaps two days, in Abbevilliers, for here, so the guidebook informed
me, was to be found a Gothic cathedral of the fifteenth and sixteenth
centuries, an ancient fortress, and a natural history collection; but
now my ambition was to pass Abbevilliers by with the greatest possible
despatch.

Yet, what was one to do when soldiers in uniform and led by officers
entered the train and required the passengers to vacate forthwith, on
the excuse that the coaches were required for the transportation of
troops? Protests were presented, but all to no avail, the officers
remaining obdurate in the face of entreaties, objurgations, and even
offers of money by a number of individuals hailing from various sections
of the United States and elsewhere. We detrained; there was, in fact, no
other course left to us.

Pausing at the station long enough to indite and leave behind a
cablegram acquainting Mr. Bryan with this newest outrage, I set forth,
with my eight clustering wards, to find suitable quarters for the night.
We visited hotel after hotel, to be met everywhere with the statement
that each already was full to overflowing with refugees. At last, spent
and discouraged, I obtained shelter for my little expedition beneath the
roof of a small and emphatically untidy establishment on the shores of
that turbid stream, the River Somme. For the accommodation of the young
ladies two small rooms were available, but to my profound distaste I was
informed that I must sleep through the night on--hear this, Mister
President!--on a billiard table!

I had never slept on a billiard table before. Willingly, I shall never
do so again. Moreover, I was not permitted to have an entire billiard
table to myself. I was compelled to share it with two other persons,
both total strangers to me.

I must qualify that last assertion; for one of my bedfellows--or
table-fellows, to employ exact language--lost no time in informing me
regarding himself and his history. Despite the hardness of my improvised
couch, I fain would have relinquished myself to Nature's sweet
restorer--that is, slumber--for I was greatly awearied by the exertions
of the day; but this gentleman, who was of enormous physical
proportions, evinced so strong an inclination to have converse with me
that I felt it the part of discretion, and