comrade.

"What's wrong?" he demanded rather shortly. For when you criticized
Henri's get-up--the cut of his coat and of his trousers, and in
particular the hang of the latter, the colour of his socks, and his
particular fancy in boots and hats--he was apt to become quite angry.
And it made no difference now that the smart clothes which he was wont
to wear had been changed for the peculiar blue uniform of France's
fighting forces, supported by a pair of army boots of sturdy pattern,
and capped by a steel helmet of distinctive style and of the same
peculiar blue colour. Yet, withal, putting cut aside, allowing the
fact that Henri, dressed as he was now, looked tall and strong and
active and upright, and quite martial too, armed with a rifle, one had
to admit that there was a huge difference between the Henri of that
moment and the dapper, elegant, well-groomed Henri of twenty months
before--a Henri who in London or Paris might quite fairly have been
termed a "knut".

"Well, you do look a 'one-er'!"

"And what about you?" demanded Henri a little warmly. "Now that
compliments are flying, what about you, mon ami? With that pack on
your back you look like a donkey laden for the market."

At that Jules grimaced, and jerked his pack higher; and, indeed, Henri
had not described him altogether unfairly. For your French
_poilu_--the gallant, sturdy French infantry soldier--is, when on the
line of march, if not actually overloaded, certainly apt to have the
appearance of being so. What with his pack, his mess tins, the
camp-kettle which one man among a certain number carries, his
entrenching-tools, and the little bundle of faggots for the camp-fire,
a French infantryman does indeed seem to have a vast quantity of
personal impedimenta.

A sounding bugle called the two, and in a little while they were
parading with a number of other men, some of whom had already seen
service, while others were new to warfare altogether--men who possibly
had been delayed from joining the colours by illness, who had contrived
to reach France from abroad, or who belonged to a younger
classification. A smart sergeant threw a knowing eye along the line,
and, striding down it, seemed to take in the appearance of every man
within a few seconds. Halting here for a moment to adjust a belt, and
there to tuck in the tag of a buckle, he soon reached the end of the
line, and, passing down behind it, adjusting packs, putting kettles in
the correct