dogs, into a horrible
fetid hole in the ground in Northern France. It had thrown not the
average young Englishman of comfortable position, who had toyed with
aesthetic superficialities as an amusement, but a poor little
by-product of cloistered life who had been brought up from babyhood to
regard these things as the nervous texture of his very existence. He
was wrapped from head to heel in fine net, to every tiny mesh of which
he was acutely sensitive.

A hole in the ground in Northern France. The regiment, after its rest,
moved on and took its turn in the trenches. Four days on; four days
off. Four days on of misery inconceivable. Four days on, during which
the officers watched the men with the unwavering vigilance of kindly
cats:

"How are you getting along, Trevor?"

"Nicely, thank you, sir."

"Feet all right?"

"Yes, thank you, sir."

"Sure? If you want to grouse, grouse away. That's what I'm talking to
you for."

"I'm perfectly happy, sir."

"Darn sight more than I am!" laughed the subaltern, and with a cheery
nod in acknowledgment of Doggie's salute, splashed down the muddy
trench.

But Doggie was chilled to the bone, and he had no feeling in his feet,
which were under six inches of water, and his woollen gloves being wet
through were useless, and prevented his numbed hands from feeling the
sandbags with which he and the rest of the platoon were repairing the
parapet; for the Germans had just consecrated an hour's general hate
to the vicinity of the trench, and its exquisite symmetry, the pride
of the platoon commander, had been disturbed. There had also been a
few ghastly casualties. A shell had fallen and burst in the traverse
at the far end of the trench. Something that looked like half a man's
head and a bit of shoulder had dropped just in front of the dug-out
where Doggie and his section was sheltering. Doggie staring at it was
violently sick. In a stupefied way he found himself mingling with
others who were engaged in clearing up the horror. A murmur reached
him that it was Taffy Jones who had thus been dismembered.... The
bombardment over, he had taken his place with the rest in the
reparation of the parapet; and as he happened to be at an end of the
line, the officer had spoken to him. If he had been suffering tortures
unknown to Attila, and unimagined by his successors, he would have
answered just the same.

* * * * *

But he lamented Taffy's death to Phine