egs. He never forgave
me--he wasn't that sort of fellow.

St. Valery-sur-Somme is a very pleasant little town at the mouth of
the river, and the Allied Press held a nice chateau with a lovely
garden. When things were quiet they used to have musical evenings,
when Captain Douglas would sing most charmingly, and Captain Holland (p. 076)
would play the fool well. Poor Theo! The Boche were at it hard now,
and they were bombing all round every night. One night my window and
wooden shutters were blown in--four bombs came down quite close. The
roar of their falling was terrific. I remember well, after the second
had burst, finding myself trying to jamb my head under my bed, but
there wasn't room. I was scared stiff.

Soon after this great things happened. The whole world changed--the
air became more exhilarating, birds seemed to sing happier songs, and
men walked with a lighter step. One great thing happened quickly after
another. Ludendorff's black day arrived, and the Boche were driven off
the heights of Villers-Bretonneux, and they lost sight of Amiens
Cathedral. One day news came that the French had attacked all along
the line from Chateau Thierry to Soissons, and had taken four thousand
prisoners! It was all wonderful! Any day on the roads then one passed
thousands of field-grey prisoners--long lines of weary, beaten men.
They had none of the arrogance of the early prisoners, who were all
sure Germany would win, and showed their thoughts clearly. No, these
men were beaten and knew it, and they had not the spirit left even to
try and hide their feelings.

That great French song, "La Madelon de la Victoire," connecting the
names of Foch and Clemenceau, was sung with joy, and yet, when sung,
tears were never far away--tears of thankfulness! Many have I seen
pour down the cheeks of great, strong, brave men at the sound of that
song and the tramp of the sky-blue poilus coming along in the glare
and dust.

Forsyth had a song which became very popular about this time. The
chorus ran:--

"Mary Ann is after me, (p. 077)
Full of love she seems to be;
My mother says, it's clear to see
She wants me for her young man.
Father says, 'If that be true,
John, my boy, be thankful, do;
There's one bigger bloody fool in the world than you--
That's Mary Ann.'"

[Illustration: XXXIII. _Marshal Foch, O.M._]

In August I went down South to paint Marshal Foch at Bon Bon.