Project Gutenberg's Where the Sabots Clatter Again, by Katherine Shortall

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

Title: Where the Sabots Clatter Again

Author: Katherine Shortall

Release Date: July 29, 2004 [EBook #13048]

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHERE THE SABOTS CLATTER AGAIN ***

This eBook was produced by Steven desJardins and Distributed
Proofreaders.

[Illustration: Where the Sabots
Clatter Again by Katherine Shortall]

[Illustration: Katherine Shortall (autograph), December 1921]

_The Radcliffe Unit in France collaborated with the French Red Cross in
its work of reconstruction after the Armistice. It was as a member of
this unit and as chauffeuse in the devastated regions that the writer
received the impressions set forth in these sketches._

Where the Sabots Clatter Again

by Katherine Shortall

[Illustration: street scene]

Ralph Fletcher Seymour
Publisher
410 S. Michigan Avenue
Chicago

PUBLISHED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE
RADCLIFFE COLLEGE ENDOWMENT FUND
IN AN EDITION LIMITED TO 150 COPIES

SECOND EDITION OF 150 COPIES

1921

WHERE THE SABOTS CLATTER AGAIN.

THE BRIDE OF NOYON.

A returning flush upon the plain. Streaks of color across a mangled
landscape: the gentle concealment of shell hole and trench. This is what
one saw, even in the summer of 1919. For the sap was running, and a new
invasion was occurring. Legions of tender blades pushed over the haggard
No Man's Land, while reckless poppies scattered through the ranks of
green, to be followed by the shyer starry sisters in blue and white.
Irrepressibly these floral throngs advanced over the shell torn spaces,
crowding, mingling and bending together in a rainbow riot beneath the
winds that blew them. They were the vanguard.

* * * * *

In the midst of the reviving fields lay Noyon: Noyon, that gem of the
Oise, whose delicate outline of spires and soft tinted roofs had graced
the wide valley for centuries. Today the little city lay blanched and
shapeless between the hills, as all towns were left that stood in the
path of the armies. The cathedral alone reared its battered bulk i