jutted out over the shops in the narrow little streets. Thompson and
Struttie who had a room there were over a Café Chantant known as the
"Bijou"--a high class place of entertainment! Sunday night was a gala
performance and I was often asked to a "scrambled-egg" supper during
which, with forks suspended in mid air, we listened breathlessly to the
sounds of revelry beneath. Some of the performers had extremely good
voices and we could almost, but not quite, hear the words (perhaps it
was just as well). What ripping tunes they had! I can remember one
especially when, during the chorus, all the audience beat time with
their feet and joined in. We were evolving wild schemes of disguising
ourselves as _poilus_ and going in a body to witness the show, but
unfortunately it was one of those things that is "not done" in the best
circles!




CHAPTER III

THE JOURNEY UP TO THE FRONT


Soon my turn came to go up to the trenches. The day had at last arrived!
We were not due to go actually _into_ the trenches till after dark in
case of drawing fire, but we set off early, as we had some distance to
go and stores to deliver at dressing stations. Two of the trained
nurses, Sister Lampen and Joynson, were of the party, and two
F.A.N.Y.'s; the rest of the good old "Mors" ambulance was filled with
sacks of shirts, mufflers, and socks, together with the indispensable
first-aid chests and packets of extra dressings in case of need.