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[Page 57]

(34)
As we march through this quaint old town of the French, now changed by the touch of evil war from a place of homely peace and rest, to a weird scene of wreck and desolation, I could tell you much which may not be told.
However that cannot be, for while it is war, grim silence must seal down many pages.
Aye, and even after war it were best that that seal remain unbroken.
Of many of the simple things which I may yet tell you, to give some impression of so that you may see as in a picture that which I see in reality I must weary you with some

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