Brigade Major offers to show him round the line, and proceeds to pull
his leg and tells him the most preposterous nonsense. For instance,
on a shot being fired miles away he pretends they are in frightful
danger, and leads him bent double round and round trenches in the
same circle."

"What a shame!"

"Wasn't it? Well, when he gets tired he asks the American if he thinks
he has learnt anything. The American says, 'Gee, I've been out here
two years now, but I guess you've taught me a whole heap I didn't
know. I'm a Canadian tunneller, you know, and I've got to show some
Americans our work, but I guess I've had a most interesting time
with you."

"Ha! ha!"

"Well now, to put the story into its form. Here's Copy No. 1, on
this old envelope. 'Americans coming--Brigade Major sees American
looking for party--pulls his leg--pretends to being in frightful
danger--American is Canadian who has been out two years.' See? Copy
No. 2. Here we begin to till in. Describe Brigade headquarters and
previous leg-pulls of Brigade Major. Make up details of what he tells
the American--'That's a trench. That thing you fell over is a coil
of wire. This is a sunken road--we sunk it, etc., etc.' Copy No.
3, additions and details, little touches of local colour, revision
of choice of words, heart-rending erasions. And here, my child," I
concluded, bringing out the beautiful, clean, smooth typed copy--"here
is the finished work itself, light, pleasant, fluent, humorous and,
most important of all, spontaneous."