isplayed four new notches on a badly notched butt in proof of the fact.

"There's a big 'ole w'ere the artill'ry pushed in their parapet larst
night. That's w'ere I caught me larst one, 'bout a 'arf-hour ago. A bloke
goes by every little w'ile an' fergets to duck 'is napper. Tyke yer
field-glasses an' watch me clip the next one. Quarter left it is, this
side the old 'ouse with the 'ole in the wall."

I focused my glasses and waited. Presently he said, in a very cool,
matter-of-fact voice:--

"There's one comin'. See 'im? 'E's carryin' a plank. You can see it
stickin' up above the parapet. 'E's a-go'n' to get a nasty one if 'e
don't duck w'en he comes to that 'ole."

I found the moving plank and followed it along the trench as it
approached nearer and nearer to the opening; and I was guilty of the most
unprofessional conduct, for I kept thinking, as hard as I could, "Duck,
Fritzie! Whatever you do, duck when you come to that hole!" And surely
enough, he did. The plank was lowered into the trench just before the
opening was reached, and the top of it reappeared again, a moment later,
on the other side of the opening. The sniper was greatly disappointed.

"Now, wouldn't that give you the camel's 'ump?" he said. "I believe
you're a Joner to me, matey."

Presently another man carrying a plank went along the trench and he
ducked, too.

"Grease off, Jerry!" said the butt-notcher. "Yer bringin' me bad luck.
'Owever, they prob'ly got that place taped. They lost one man there an'
they won't lose another, not if they knows it."

I talked with many snipers at different parts of the line. It was
interesting to get their points of view, to learn what their reaction was
to their work. The butt-notchers were very few. Although snipers
invariably took pride in their work, it was the sportsman's pride in good
marksmanship rather than the love of killing for its own sake. The
general attitude was that of a corporal whom I knew. He never fired
hastily, but when he did pull the trigger, his bullet went true to the
mark.

"You can't 'elp feelin' sorry for the poor blighters," he would say, "but
it's us or them, an' every one you knocks over means one of our blokes
saved."

I have no doubt that the Germans felt the same way about us. At any rate,
they thoroughly believed in the policy of attrition, and in carrying it
out they often wasted thousands of rounds in sniping every yard of our
parapet. The sound was deafening at times, p