ioned officers who were
Honourables, and who were trying their best to live it down. One such
youth was in charge of the great van that is the repair shop for the
airship. Others were in charge of the wireless station. One met them
everywhere, clear-eyed young Englishmen ready and willing to do
anything, no matter what, and proving every moment of their busy day
the essential democracy of the English people.

As we went into the administration building that afternoon two things
happened: The observers in the water tower reported a German aeroplane
coming toward the station, and a young lieutenant, who had gone to the
front in a borrowed machine, reported that he had broken the wind
shield of the machine. There are plenty of German aeroplanes at that
British airship station, but few wind shields. The aeroplane was
ignored, but the wind shield was loudly and acrimoniously discussed.

The day was cold and had turned grey and lowering. It was pleasant
after our tour of the station to go into the long living room and sit
by the fire. But the fire smoked. One after another those dauntless
British officers attacked it, charged with poker, almost with bayonet,
and retired defeated. So they closed it up finally with a curious
curved fire screen and let it alone. It was ten minutes after I began
looking at the fire screen before I recognised it for what it was--the
hood from an automobile!

Along one side of the wall was a piano. It had been brought back from
a ruined house at the front. It was rather a poor piano and no one had
any music, but some of the officers played a little by ear. The top of
the piano was held up by a bandage! It was a piano of German make, and
the nameplate had been wrenched off!

A long table filled the centre of the room. One end formed the press
censorship bureau, for it was part of the province of the station to
censor and stamp letters going out. The other end was the dining
table. Over the fireplace on the mantel was a baby's shoe, a little
brown shoe picked up on the street of a town that was being destroyed.

Beside it lay an odd little parachute of canvas with a weighted
letter-carrier beneath. One of the officers saw me examining it and
presented it to me, as it was worn and past service.

"Now and then," he explained, "it is impossible to use the wireless,
for one reason or another. In that case a message can be dropped by
means of the parachute."

I brought the message-carrier home wit