thought to try to save some of their cherished belongings, but had
finally fled leaving all to the care of the soldiers, who protect the
property of the inhabitants as carefully as if it were their own.

It would be difficult to find finer custodians. I was told that at
Bobigny, pres Bourget, there is on one of the houses the following
inscription worthy of classical times:

"The proprietor of this house has gone to the War. He leaves this
dwelling to the care of the French. Long live France." And he left
the key in the lock.

The soldiers billeted in the house read the inscription, which met
with their approval, and so far each regiment in passing had
cleaned out the little dwelling and left it in perfect order.

From the citadel we went down into the trenches which led to the
lines at Thiaumont. The heat in the city was excessive but in the
trenches it was delightfully cool, perhaps a little too cool. We heard
the men make no complaints except that at times the life was a
little "monotonous"! One man told me that he was once in a trench
that was occupied at the same time by the French and the
Germans. There was nothing between them but sand bags and a
thick wall of clay, and day and night the French watched that wall.
One day a slight scratching was heard. The men prepared to face
the crumbling of the barrier when through a small hole popped out
the head of a brown rabbit. Down into the trench hopped Mrs.
Bunny, followed by two small bunnies, and although rabbit for
lunch would have improved the menu the men had not the heart to
kill her. On the contrary they fed her on their rations and at night-