you here, too?"

"_Eh bien, cette fois je crois quon y va! Hein?_"

Our door closed and the trainman whistled.

"_Bon voyage!_" shouted the boy through the window.

"The same to you," replied the other. That was all.

It was not a very eventful journey. It was merely hot and lengthy. We
stopped at every little way station either to let down or take on
passengers. We were side-tracked and forgotten for what seemed hours
at a time, to allow speedy express trains filled with men and bound for
the eastern frontier to pass on and be gone.

At Changis-St. Jean I put my head out of the window and there witnessed
a most touching sight. A youngish man in a well-fitting captain's
uniform, accompanied by his wife and two pretty babies, was preparing to
take his leave. He was evidently well known and esteemed in his little
village, for the curate, the mayor, the municipal council and numerous
friends had come to see him off. The couple bore up bravely until the
whistle blew-then, clasping each other in an almost brutal embrace, they
parted, he to jump into the moving train mid the shouts of well-wishers,
and she, her shoulders shaking with emotion, to return to her empty
home.

Four months later, almost to a day, I again put my head out of the car
window as we stopped at Changis. Imagine my surprise on seeing almost
the same group! I recognized the mayor, the curate and the others, and