"Yes, it's an easy enough trade to pick up," lectured Top-
Sergeant Mahan, formerly of the regular army. "You've just got to
remember a few things. But you've got to keep on remembering
those few, all the time. If you forget one of 'em, it's the last
bit of forgetting you're ever likely to do."

Top-Sergeant Mahan, of the mixed French-and-American regiment
known as "Here-We-Come," was squatting at ease on the trench
firing-step. From that professorial seat he was dispensing
useful knowledge to a group of fellow-countrymen-newly arrived
from the base, to pad the "Here-We-Come" ranks, which had been
thinned at the Rache attack.

"What sort of things have we got to remember, Sergeant?" jauntily
asked a lanky Missourian. "We've got the drill pretty pat; and
the trench instructions and--"

"Gee!" ejaculated Mahan. "I had no idea of that! Then why don't
you walk straight ahead into Berlin? If you know all you say you
do, about war, there's nothing more for you to learn. I'll drop a
line to General Foch and suggest to him that you rookies be
detailed to teach the game to us oldsters."

"I didn't mean to be fresh," apologized the jaunty one. "Won't
you go ahead and tell us the things we need to remember?"

"Well," exhorted Mahan, appeased by the newcomer's humility,
"there aren't so many of them, after all. Learn to duck, when you
hear a Minnie grunt or a whizzbang cut loose; or a five-nine