at Metz; they said his birthday was August 4; they said he was too
young to serve in the Franco-Prussian war; and they said a great many
other things of which few happened to be true.

Then, as the summer of 1918 waned, there came to me from France, from
Intelligence officers of General Foch's staff, authoritative
information about him.

And also there came those, representing France and her interests in
this country, who said:

"Won't you put the facts about Foch before your people?"

If I could have fought for France with a sword (or gun) I should have
been at her service from the first of August, 1914, when I heard her
tocsin ring, saw her sons march away to fight and die on battlefields
as familiar to me as my home neighborhood.

Not being permitted that, I have yielded her such service as I could
with my pen.

And when asked to write, for my countrymen, about General Foch, I felt
honored in a supreme degree.

In due course we shall have many volumes about him: his life, his
teachings, his writings, his great deeds will be studied in minutest
details as long as that civilization endures which he did so much to
preserve to mankind.

But just now, while all hearts are overflowing with gratefulness to