hing quite as important as sightseeing. In a
somewhat battered square, busy with reopening shops (some of them most
_quaint_ shops, with false hair as a favourite display!) was a hotel.
The Germans had lived in it for months. They had bullied the very old,
very vital landlady who welcomed us. Their boots had worn holes in the
stair carpet, going up and down in a goose-step. Their elbows had
polished the long table in the dining room, and--oh, horror!--their
mouths had drunk beer from glasses in which the good wine of France was
offered to us!

"Ah, but I have scrubbed the goblets since with a fortune's worth of
soda," the woman volubly explained. "They are purified. If I could wash
away as easily the memories behind my eyes and in my ears! Of them I
cannot get rid. Whenever I see an automobile, yes, even the most
innocent automobile, I live again through a certain scene! We had here
at Ham an invalid woman, whose husband the Boches took out and shot.
When she heard the news, she threw herself under one of their military
cars and was killed. If a young girl passes my windows (alas, it is
seldom! the Germans know why) I see once more a procession of girls
lined up to send into slavery. God knows where they are now, those
children! All we know is, that in this country there is not a girl left
of an age between twelve and twenty, unless she was hidden or disguised
when the Boches took their toll. If I hear a sound of bells, I see our
people being herded into church--our old, old church, with its proud
monuments!--so their houses might be burned before the Germans had to
run. They stayed in the church for days and nights, waiting for the
chateau to be blown up. What a suspense! No one knew if the great shock,
when it came, might not kill everyone!"

As she exploded reminiscences, the old lady fed us with ham and omelette
salted with tears. We had to eat, or hurt her feelings, but it was as if
we swallowed the poor creature's emotion with our food, and the effect
within was dynamic. I never had such a volcanic meal! Our French officer
was the only calm one among us, but--he had been stationed in this
liberated region for months. It's an old story for him.

After luncheon we staggered away to see the great sight of Ham, the
fortress-chateau which has given it history and fame for centuries. The
Germans blew up the citadel out of sheer spite, as the vast pink pile
long ago ceased to be of military value. They wished to show t