f an enemy soldier who was brought before him.

Dead silence ensued.

"If he refuses to answer, turn him upside down until he does."

The order was executed.

From the opposite trench came shrieks of "Boche! Boche!--it's only the
Boche who maltreat prisoners."

The aforementioned who was rapidly developing cerebral congestion, made
sign that he would speak.

"Turn him right side up!"

The young executioner obeyed, but still held a firm grip on the
unfortunate lad's collar.

"Now, then, how many of you are there in your trenches?"

"Enough to make jelly out of your men if there are many like you!"
shrieked the captive, struggling to escape.

"Take him behind the lines, don't be rough with him. Respect is due
all prisoners," ordered the General, whose eye had caught a glimpse of
his army being menaced by the blond headed enemy.

"Look out, boys! Down with your heads! They're sending over some
'coal scuttles.' Dig in I say and keep a sharp look out! What's the
matter back there?"

"It's little Michaud. He's wounded!"

"Don't cry, Michaud, go out by the connecting trench to the dressing
station. It's not far."

The hail of "coal scuttles" having subsided, the General mounted to his
observation post.

"Hey! Michel! Gaston! hey there, the artillery!" he yelled. "Get in
at them quick. Go to it, I say. Don't you see they're going to
attack! What's artillery for, anyway?"

"We can't fire a shot. They're pounding on our munitions dump."

"What difference does that make?"

Under heavy fire the artillery achieved the impossible, which actually
resulted in bloodshed. But their determination was soon rewarded, for
the patent "Seventy Fives," represented by huge slabs of sod, soon
rained into the enemy trenches, sowing panic and disorder.

Profiting by the confusion, our General grabbed up a basket and began
distributing munitions.

"Attention! Listen to me! Don't any one fire until I give the word.
Let them approach quite close and then each one of you choose your man.
Dentu, if you're too short, stand on a stone or something!"

The artillery wreaking havoc in his midst, the enemy decided to brusque
matters and attack. He left his trenches shouting, "_Vive la France!
En avant! Aux armes, mes citoyens! A bas le Boche!_"

"Attention! Are you ready? Fire!" commanded our General.

Bing! bang! a veritable tornado of over-ripe tomatoes deluged the
astonished oncomers, who hesitated an in