erent activities that were afoot and would eventually bring the
United States to the side of the Allies.

Towards the middle of the repast our enemies began sending over a few
shells and presently a serious bombardment was under way. Yet no one
stirred.

Dishes were passed and removed, and though oft times I personally felt
that the pattering of shrapnel on the tin roof opposite was
uncomfortably close, I was convinced there was no theatrical display of
bravery, no cheap heroism in our companions' unconsciousness. They
were interested in what was being said--_voila tout_.

Presently, however, our hostess leaned towards me and I fancied she was
about to suggest a trip cellarward, instead of which she whispered that
on account of the bombardment we were likely to go without dessert
since it had to come from the other side of town and had not yet
arrived.

Then a shell burst quite close, and at the same time the street bell
rang. The _cordon_ was pulled, and through the aperture made by the
backward swing of the great door, I caught sight of a ruddy cheeked,
fair haired maiden in her early teens, bearing a huge bowl of fresh
cream cheese in her outstretched hands.

Steadily she crossed the court, approached the window where she halted,
smiled bashfully, set down her precious burden, and timidly addressing
our hostess:

"I'm sorry, Madame," said she, "so sorry if I have made you wait."

And so it goes.

I remember a druggist who on greeting me exclaimed:

"A pretty life, is it not, for a man who has liver trouble?" And yet
he remained simply because it was a druggist's duty to do so when all
the others are mobilised.

There was also the printer of a local daily, who continued to set up
his type with one side of his shop blown out; who went right on
publishing when the roof caved in, and who actually never ceased doing
so until the whole structure collapsed, and a falling wall had
demolished his only remaining press.

Monsieur le Prefet held counsel and deliberated in a room against whose
outside wall one could hear the constant patter of machine gun bullets
raining thick from the opposite bank of the river. Monsieur Muzart,
the Mayor, seemed to be everywhere at once, and was always the first on
the spot when anything really serious occurred.

Add to these the little dairy maids, who each morning fearlessly
delivered the city's milk; or the old fellow on whom had devolved the
entire responsibility of the