glish
mechanic "walks out," on Sundays and holidays. There are many engagements,
and, as I gather, no misconduct. Marriage is generally postponed till
after the war, owing to the legal and other difficulties involved. But
marriage there will be when peace comes. As to how the Englishman and the
French girl communicate, there are amusing speculations, but little exact
knowledge. There can be small doubt, however, that a number of hybrid
words perfectly understood by both sides are gradually coming into use,
and if the war lasts much longer, a rough Esperanto will have grown up
which may leave its mark on both languages. The word "narpoo" is a case in
point. It is said to be originally a corruption of "_il n'y a plus_"--the
phrase which so often meets the Tommy foraging for eggs or milk or fruit.
At present it means anything from "done up" to "dead." Here is an instance
of it, told me by a chaplain at the front. He was billeted in a farm with
a number of men, and a sergeant. All the men, from the chaplain to the
youngest private, felt a keen sympathy and admiration for the women of the
farm, who were both working the land and looking after their billetees,
with wonderful pluck and energy. One evening the chaplain arriving at the
open door of the farm, saw in the kitchen beyond it the daughter of the
house, who had just come in from farm work. She was looking at a pile of
dirty plates and dishes which had to be washed before supper, and she gave
a sigh of fatigue. Suddenly in the back door on the other side of the
kitchen appeared the sergeant. He looked at the girl, then at the dishes,
then again at the girl. "Fattigay?" he said cheerfully, going up to her.
"Narpoo? Give 'em me. Compree?" And before she could say a word he had
driven her away, and plunged into the work.

The general relations, indeed, between our soldiers and the French
population could not be better. General after General, both in the bases,
and at the front dwelt on this point. A distinguished General commanding
one of our armies on the line, spoke to me of it with emphasis. "The
testimony is universal, and it is equally creditable to both sides." The
French civilian in town and country is, no doubt, profiting by the large
demand and prompt payments of the British forces. But just as in the case
of the women munition workers, there is infinitely more in it than money.
On the British part there is, in both officers and men, a burning sympathy
for what Fra