fight. He knew all about the war; he left
England two months before it began. I did not wish to leave. I
desired to remain, earning good wages. But my father would not permit
me."

"And where is he now?"

She shrugged her shoulders.

"I do not know. Fighting: killed, perhaps. But my uncle graciously
offered me a home, and here am I. I do the work of three men, and I
am--how did we say it in Clapham?--bored stiff for England. I wish
this silly old war would end, so that I could return."

"We're trying to return without waiting for it to end," said Jim
solemnly. "Only I'd like to know how you knew what we were."

"But what else could you be? It is so funny how you put on these
clothes, like the ostrich, and think no one will guess who you are.
If you wore his suit of feathers you would still look like British
officers and nothing else."

"You're encouraging," said Desmond grimly. "I hope all your nation
won't be as discerning."

"Ach--they!" said the girl. "They see no farther than their noses.
I, too, was like that before I went to Clapham."

"It's a pleasant spot," said Desmond. "I don't wonder you improved
there. But all the same, you are German, aren't you? I don't quite
see why you want to befriend us." He took a satisfying mouthful of
sausage. "But I'm glad you do."

"In England I am--well, pretty German," said his fair hostess. "The
boys in Clapham, they call me Polly Sauer Kraut. And I talk of the
Fatherland, and sing 'Die Wacht am Rhein.' Oh yes. But when I come
back here and work for my so economical uncle on this beastly farm,
then I remember Clapham and I do not feel German at all. I cannot
help it. But if I said so, I would skinned be, very quickly. So I
say 'Gott Strafe England!' But that is only eyewash!"

"Well, we'll think kindly of one German woman, anyhow," said Desmond.
"The last of your charming sisters I met was a Red Cross nurse at a
station where our train pulled up when I was going through, wounded.
I asked her for a glass of water, and she brought it to me all
right--only just as she gave it to me she spat in it. I've been a
woman-hater ever since, until I met you." He lifted the bucket, and
looked at her over its rim. "Here's your very good health, Miss Polly
Sauer Kraut, and may I meet you in Clapham!"

The girl beamed.

"Oh, I will be there," she said confidently. "I have money in the
Bank in London: I will have a little baker shop, and you will ge