were little groups of two and three, chatting together in
combinations of Franco-American which must have caused all deceased
professors of modern languages to spin like midges in their graves.
And throughout all this before-supper merriment, one could catch the
feeling of good-comradeship which, so far as my experience goes, is
always prevalent whenever Frenchmen and Americans are gathered
together.

At the _ordinaire_, at supper-time, we saw all of the _eleve-pilotes_
of the school, with the exception of the non-commissioned officers,
who have their own mess. To Drew and me, but newly come from remote
America, it was a most interesting gathering. There were about one
hundred and twenty-five in all, including eighteen Americans. The
large majority of the Frenchmen had already been at the front in other
branches of army service. There were artillerymen, infantrymen,
marines,--in training for the naval air-service,--cavalrymen, all
wearing the uniforms of the arm to which they originally belonged. No
one was dressed in a uniform which distinguished him as an aviator;
and upon making inquiry, I found that there is no official dress for
this branch of the service. During his period of training in aviation,
and even after receiving his military brevet, a pilot continues to
wear the dress of his former service, plus the wings on the collar,
and the star-and-wings insignia on his right breast. This custom does
not make for the fine uniform appearance of the men of the British
Royal Flying Corps, but it gives a picturesqueness of effect which is,
perhaps, ample recompense. As for the Americans, they follow
individual tastes, as we learned later. Some of them, with an eye to
color, salute the sun in the red trousers and black tunic of the
artilleryman. Others choose more sober shades, various French blues,
with the thin orange aviation stripe running down the seams of the
trousers. All this in reference to the dress uniform. At the camp most
of the men wear leathers, or a combination of leathers and the
gray-blue uniform of the French _poilu_, which is issued to all
Americans at the time of their enlistment.

We had a very excellent supper of soup, followed by a savory roast of
meat, with mashed potatoes and lentils. Afterward, cheese and beer. I
was slightly discomfited physically on learning that the beef was
horse-meat, but Drew convinced me that it was absurd to let old
scruples militate against a healthy appetite. In 18