disturbances in the diplomatic world which occurred with almost
monotonous regularity every August. Previously war had simply been
denied to Germany. Why not once again? And so on, and so forth. Probably
they did not really believe or mean half they said. They were thirsty,
hungry, and very, very tired.

The soldier at Malplâquet shook the powder from his wig, and grumbled as
only a soldier and a Britain can.

His descendant at Mons did just the same thing. And after he had got his
"grouse" off his chest, fought all the better for it.

Although an alarming rumour reached them that the enemy, crowded into
motor buses, had already reached St. Quentin, nothing disturbed their
rest during the night, and by dawn the column was swinging along the
road to La Fère. The men were always depressed and weary in the early
morning. Their spirits never began to rise until eight or nine o'clock.
Then songs would break out. "Who were you with last night?" "Hold your
hand out, naughty boy!" and the inevitable "Tipperary," were the
favourites. They would often whistle the "Marseillaise." A certain
"swing" entered into the marching; there was less changing step, less
shuffling. Even their weary faces brightened. Jokes became positively
prolific, and the wit of the barrack-room, considered as wit, is far
funnier than the humour of the Mess. Perhaps it is founded on a deeper
knowledge of life.

Towards midday, almost imperceptibly, the gist of the songs changed to
the sentimental, and before very long the heat and fatigue gradually
overcame the men, and songs ceased altogether. As a general rule, after
two o'clock the mental attitude of the troops might be described as