fficer without an escort. We saluted as we passed,
and he said, "Good-night, boys." Mac whispered, "I believe he's a
spy." Skinny said, "Blime, I believe he is too." We talked it over
about fifteen minutes and then we decided to follow him, so we gave
chase and caught up with him just outside a line of huts where there
was a sentry posted; when we came up he was talking and laughing with
the sentry, so we stood in the background and listened, and what do you
think--if that guy wasn't the officer in charge of the guard, so our
fourteen days' leave and our 20 pounds was all shot in the head--that
cured my spy catching.

When on rest we were billeted in some of the little villages behind the
lines, and we struck up quite an acquaintance with the French peasants
living there. "Old Madame" was a particular friend of ours, and we got
to know her best because she made her living by serving lunches to the
soldiers; she had a nickname for each of us, and if any one was missing
she had to hear all about it. Many a pleasant evening we spent in her
little home. A bunch of us would go together, and we would take along
our mandolin, banjo, and mouth organ, and have a little concert; Madame
would sit there and smile, not understanding a word we said, but
enjoying seeing us having a good time--another thing, it was always
warm there, and that was something that our billets never were.

But we had a great time trying to get enough French so that we could
ask for what we wanted to eat and many laughable incidents occurred in
our struggles to make Madame understand. For instance, one night
Skinny wanted eggs, and he tried in every way to make his wants known,
but Madame failed to get his meaning, and finally the boy got
desperate, so jumping up, he started to run around the room cackling
like a hen. He got the eggs all right, and I think he earned them; but
it was so funny that we nearly rolled off our chairs laughing.

To make things better, a party of twenty-five Canadians came to the
tunnellers and we had some good old times together; but Mac and Skinny
were still my best pals; many's the prank we played together. One of
our favourite ones was to work the officer in charge for an extra
ration of rum. The British Tommy was given his ration of rum as soon
as he came up from the sap, but we Canadians had to wait for ours till
we reached our rest billets, and it was served to us there by one of
our own officers. The onl