w, in this position, it
looked like a jungfrau; and recited a long German rhyme which
told how Spain was the maiden's head, the Pyrenees her lace ruff,
Germany her heart and bosom, England and Italy were two arms, and
Russia, though it looked so big, was only a hoopskirt. This rhyme
would probably be condemned as dangerous propaganda now!

As he walked on alone, Claude was thinking how this country that
had once seemed little and dull to him, now seemed large and rich
in variety. During the months in camp he had been wholly absorbed
in new work and new friendships, and now his own neighbourhood
came to him with the freshness of things that have been forgotten
for a long while,--came together before his eyes as a harmonious
whole. He was going away, and he would carry the whole
countryside in his mind, meaning more to him than it ever had
before. There was Lovely Creek, gurgling on down there, where he
and Ernest used to sit and lament that the book of History was
finished; that the world had come to avaricious old age and noble
enterprise was dead for ever. But he was going away....

That afternoon Claude spent with his mother. It was the first
time she had had him to herself. Ralph wanted terribly to stay
and hear his brother talk, but understanding how his mother felt,
he went back to the wheat field. There was no detail of Claude's
life in camp so trivial that Mrs. Wheeler did not want to hear
about it. She asked about the mess, the cooks, the laundry, as
well as about his own duties. She made him describe the bayonet
drill and explain the operation of machine guns and automatic
rifles.

"I hardly see how we can bear the anxiety when our transports
begin to sail," she said thoughtfully. "If they can once get you
all over there, I am not afraid; I believe our boys are as good
as any in the world. But with submarines reported off our own
coast, I wonder how the Government can get our men across safely.
The thought of transports going down with thousands of young men
on board is something so terrible--" she put her hands quickly
over her eyes.

Claude, sitting opposite his mother, wondered what it was about
her hands that made them so different from any others he had ever
seen. He had always known they were different, but now he must
look closely and see why. They were slender, and always white,
even when the nails were stained at preserving time. Her fingers
arched back at the joints, as if they were shrinking f