to go."

But she might as well have tried to argue with a hurricane.
Pierre danced up and down with rage, as Pierrette braced herself,
and firmly anchored him by his blouse. "Leggo, leggo!" he
shrieked. "I'm going, I tell you! I'm not afraid of any Germans
alive."

Just then, panting and breathless, Mother Meraut arrived upon the
scene. While Pierrette held on to his blouse, she attached
herself to his left ear. It had a very calming effect upon
Pierre. He stopped tugging to get away lest he lose his ear.

"Foolish boy," said his Mother, "see how much trouble you give
me! You shall see the Germans, but you shall not run away from
me. If we should get separated, God only knows whether we should
ever find each other again."

The music had grown louder and louder, and was now very near.
"I'll stay with you, if you'll only go," pleaded Pierre, "but you
aren't even moving."

"Come, Pierrette," said his Mother, "take hold of his left arm. I
will attend to his right; he might forget again. What he really
needs is a bit and bridle!"

The three moved up the street, Pierre chafing inwardly, but
helpless in his Mother's grasp, and at the next crossing the
great spectacle burst upon them. A whole regiment of cavalry was
passing, singing at the top of their lungs, "Lieb' Vaterland,