The next morning we fought a swaying battle in front of Rheims, and for
some few following mornings we skirmished about painlessly in the same
vicinity. Then came a sanguinary excursion to Flanders which nearly put
me into blue overalls.
A few weeks of trench warfare gave me some respite and allowed my worst
wounds to heal.
Then came the epic of Verdun. At least it was to have come, but at the
last moment I lost my nerve.
To hear the story of that heroic defence from the lips of one who was
concerned so intimately with it is one of my greatest desires. But I am
a coward. I cannot face the extravaganza that Alphonse would improvise,
neither dare I approach him for a mere haircut and so confess to having
deserted his other form of artistry.
Yesterday I purchased a safety-razor and a packet of new blades.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mary (stricken with remorse as minnow approaches her
hook)._ "OH! OH! OH! I DON'T WANT TO CATCH IT; ITS MUMMY WOULD MISS IT
SO."]
* * * * *
A LITTLE SUPPER WITH THE BORGIAS.
"FRUIT SALAD.
"Make some syrup by boiling three-quarters of a pint of water, 1/2
lb. of castor sugar, and the juice from a tinned pineapple. Lay the
pineapple in a glass bowl cut in small slices.
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