en ground all the way. By some strange twist of mental association,
whenever I was a fetcher in these circumstances I found myself mentally
quoting Longfellow's line in "Hiawatha"--"He is gathering in his
firewood"!

[Illustration: THE WOODCUTTER'S HUT.]

Our champion at the game was a Private Hyatt--quite a youngster, but
of fine physique and fearless daring. His dug-out was called "The
Woodcutter's Hut." He made a regular hobby of wood-getting. He was an
expert, a specialist. On certain occasions he even went out after wood
in the daylight, slithering along on all fours towards his objective,
and would be fired at until recalled by one of his own officers. On one
occasion when he had crawled out and into a building to collect wood, as
he crawled back through the doorway we saw little clouds of dust rising
from the brick-work surrounding him, which showed that the enemy's
snipers had spotted him, and we shouted to him from the trench to "keep
down." He took refuge behind the wall of the doorway, and lay there
three-quarters of an hour, and then returned, bringing with him the much
prized plank of which he had gone in search, and which, when chopped up,
supplied our section with sufficient firewood for a whole day and night.
In the sketch it will be observed he is reading a letter. This he had
received just after the above incident, and sat down on his valise quite
unaware that I was sketching him. Later on I gave him a copy of the
sketch, and he enclosed it in his affectionate reply to his folk at
home.

"STAND TO."

The most anxious time a soldier can know is the time, be it long or
short, that follows the command to stand to. Many a time we had to stand
to the whole night--the entire battalion, from evening twilight till the
full dawn of day--as an attack was expected. Everyone was at his firing
position, with bayonet fixed and his rifle loaded--and in tip-top
working condition, the daily rifle inspection having taken place at
dusk. Sometimes our artillery would presently open fire for the enemy's
first line, perhaps for five or six minutes--it might be more, it might
be less. Then a wait of six or seven minutes, when the enemy returned
the fire, and we all got well down. It was as well to keep as hard up
against the parapet as possible, and to keep out of all dug-outs, for
into them the forward impetus of bursting shrapnel was likely to throw a
lot of splinters. Again silence, comrades and pals passing a few r