capable of taking care of themselves. Later he again visited the
village and the women told him that beyond obliging them to clean
the soldiers' clothes thoroughly, the German officer had inflicted no
other punishment upon them.

A certain number of inhabitants are still living in the village of
Revigny. You see everywhere placards announcing "Caves pour
25," "Caves pour 100," and each person knows to which cellar he
is to go if a Taube should start bombing the village. I saw one
cellar marked "120 persons, specially safe, reserved for the
children." Children are one of the most valuable assets of France,
and a good old Territorial "Pe-Pere" (Daddy), as they are
nicknamed, told me that it was his special but difficult duty to
muster the children directly a Taube was signalled and chase them
down into the cellar. Mopping his brow he assured me that it was
not easy to catch the little beggars, who hid in the ruins, behind the
army wagons, anywhere to escape the "parental" eye, even
standing in rain barrels up to their necks in water. It is needless to
add they consider it a grave infringement of their personal liberty
and think that they should be allowed to remain in the open and
see all that goes on, just as the little Londoners beg and coax to
be allowed to stay up "to see the Zepps."

Passing the railway station we stopped to make some enquiries,
and promptly ascertained all we wished to know from the Chef de
Gare. In the days of peace there is in France no one more
officious than the station master of a small but prosperous village.
Now he is the meekest of men. Braided cap in hand he goes along
the train from carriage door to carriage door humbly requesting
newspapers for the wounded in the local hospitals: "Nous avons