take, I got a room at the Hotel Richepanse,
near the Place de la Concorde. Rooms are hard to find in Paris these
days, and I had to do a good deal of wandering before I secured this
one. I was glad I didn't have my copious and heavy luggage. After a
good rest, I did a little frivolous shopping, including a fetching and
most unmilitary hat. Heaven knows when I shall wear it, but it folds
up flat and I couldn't resist it. And I had supper with a harmless
little "Y" girl and went to bed early.

The next morning at 5.30 I crept down six flights of stairs in the
pitch dark. By the light of a candle in the lobby an old woman gave me
a cup of black coffee and a hunk of bread. I drank the coffee and took
the bread and went out into the blue black of just-before-dawn. The
street was deserted, and I munched my bread as I hurried along. My
adventure was beginning! Arriving at La Place de la Concorde I could
see the obelisk and the yawning guns silhouetted against the lighting
sky. I went down into the Metro and in time arrived at the station. My
dear old porter was outside looking for me. We got the bags and
guitar, and he installed me in a first class compartment where there
were already two French officers. With much courteous fuss, room was
made for me and the bags were stowed away on top. Then I asked the
porter to buy for me the "Echo de Paris" paying him for all he had
done. We waited for some time, and the officer sitting next to me, an
elderly gentleman in a great bearskin coat over his uniform, offered
me his paper, saying, "He will never bring you yours, Mademoiselle;
you have too much confidence in these men." "Oh, I am sure he will
bring it," I replied. "Il a ete si aimable pour moi tout le temps;"
which made both men smile and shrug their shoulders.

The whistle blew, the train jerked, when suddenly the door opened and
there was the fat old porter all out of breath with my newspaper.
"Voila, Mademoiselle!" he cried, flourishing it at me. "They didn't
have the Echo in the station and I had to go way up the street for
it." And the Frenchmen cheered!

Two nice American officers came into our compartment and we all had
breakfast together in the dining-car. Everybody talks to everybody
else in France now. They got off the train in an hour or so, and I
was left to the mercies of the French army which immediately started a
rapid cross-fire of conversation with me as the target. In reality we,
or at least I, had an awfully