time passed with phenomenal rapidity. As yet we had had no occasion to
perceive the lack of mail and daily papers, and though I had always had
a sub-conscious feeling that H. would eventually receive his marching
orders, it was rather a shock when they came. Being in a frontier
department he was called out earlier than expected. And instead of
being sent around-circuit way to reach his regiment south of Paris, he
was ordered to gain _Chateau Thierry_ at once, and there await
instructions.

Of course I packed and unpacked his bag for the twentieth time since
Sunday, in the hope of finding a tiny space to squeeze in one more
useful article--and then descending, I jumped into the cart and waited
for him to join me. In spite of the solemnity of the moment, I couldn't
help laughing when he appeared, for disdaining the immaculate costume I
had carefully laid out, he had put on a most disreputable-looking pair
of trousers, and an old paint-stained Norfolk jacket. A faded flannel
shirt and a silk bandanna tied about his throat completed this weird
accoutrement, which was topped by a long-vizored cap and a dilapidated
canvas gunny sack, the latter but half full and slung lightly over one
shoulder. Anticipating my question, he explained that it was useless to
throw away a perfectly new suit of clothes. When he should receive his
uniform, his civilian outfit ought to be put in safe keeping for his
return. This was customary in time of peace, but who could tell?--he
might never even get a uniform, let alone hoping to see the clothes
again.

And then, when I began examining the paltry contents of his sack, he
made light of my disappointment, saying that his father, who had served
in the campaign of 1870, had always told him that a ball of strong
string and a jackknife were sufficient baggage for any soldier. I