"When day dawned his comrades found little Jean asleep on top of the
parapet of his own trench, with a storm of machine gun fire sweeping
over him. He was sleeping in a rain of steel. They hauled him in and
tucked him away in a dugout.

"Jean might have slept the day through had not a shell blown up the
dugout and literally blown the boy over the lip with it. He was
considerably bruised and shocked, but otherwise was unhurt.

"By the time he had collected his wits and got the dizziness out of
his head, his comrades were once more going over the top.

"'I must go,' was Jean's reply when an officer sought to hold him
back.

"Gathering up all the canteens he could carry, Jean filled them with
water and was over the top and out on the storm-swept field. His eyes
glowed with admiration when he saw his lieutenant leading and
encouraging the men of his company. Jean tried to keep close to him,
but this was not wholly possible, for the lad was still performing his
work of mercy.

"Suddenly he saw the lieutenant stagger and fall.

"With a little cry Jean sprang up from the wounded man he was working
over and ran to the side of his friend.

"'Where--where is it, my dear Lieutenant?' he begged anxiously.

"'Two times they hit me, child--in the shoulder and in the side. It is