of the cars. "Scandalizing, and no less," was his comment when he heard
there were not. In two days' time he reported to his C.O. that the job
was finished, and the latter overheard him saying to a pal, "Aye mon,
but A've had ma outlook on life broadened these last two days." B.
'phoned up hastily to the Convoy to know what exactly we had done with
his carpenter.

Work was slack in the Autumn owing to the fearful floods of rain, and
several of the F.A.N.Y.s took up fencing and went once a week at eight
o'clock to a big "Salle d'Escrime" off the Rue Royale. A famous Belgian
fencer, I forget his name, and a Frenchman, both stationed in the
vicinity, instructed, and "Squig" kindly let me take her lessons when
she was on leave. Fencing is one of the best tests I know for teaching
you to keep your temper. When my foil had been hit up into the air about
three times in succession to the triumphant _Riposte!_ of the little
Frenchman, I would determine to keep "Quite cool." In spite of all,
however, when I lunged forward it was with rather a savage stamp, which
he would copy delightedly and exclaim triumphantly--"Mademoiselle se
fache!" I could have killed that Frenchman cheerfully! His quick orders
"_Pare, pare--quatre, pare--contre--Riposte!_" etc. left me
completely bewildered at first. Hope was a great nut with the foils and
she and the Frenchman had veritable battles, during which the little
man, on his mettle and very excited, would squeal exactly like a
rabbit. The big Belgian was more phlegmatic and not so easily moved.

One night I espied a pair of boxing gloves and pulled them on while
waiting for my turn. "Mademoiselle knows _la boxe_?" he asked
interestedly.

"A little, a very little, Monsieur," I replied. "Only what my brother
showed me long ago."

"Montrez," said he, drawing on a pair as well, and much to the amusement
of the others we began preliminary sparring. "Mademoiselle knows
_ze-k_-nock-oot?" he hazarded.

I did not reply, for at that moment he lifted his left arm, leaving his
heart exposed. Quick as lightning I got in a topper that completely
winded him and sent him reeling against the wall. When he got his breath
back he laughed till the tears rolled down his cheeks, and whenever I
met him in the street he flew up a side alley in mock terror. I was
always designated after that as _Mademoiselle qui sait la boxe--oh, la
la_!

In spite of repeated efforts on the part of R.E.s. there was a spot in
t