ion of the surroundings.

Lusty youths, still in the _bleu horizon_ of the French Army, were busy
tilling the ground, which they had cleared of bricks and mortar, to make
vegetable gardens.

My chief impression was that France, now that the war was over, had made
up her mind to set to and get going again just as fast as she possibly
could. There was not an idle person to be seen, even the children were
collecting bricks and slates.

I wondered how these families got supplies and, as if in answer to my
unspoken question, a baker's cart full of fresh brown loaves came
bumping and jolting down the uneven village street.

Silhouetted against the sky behind him was the gaunt wall of the
one-time church tower, its windows looking like the empty sockets of a
skull.

Estaires was in no better condition, but here the inhabitants had come
back in numbers and were busy at the work of reconstruction. We passed
"Grime Farm" and "Taffy Farm" on the way to Armentieres, then through a
little place called Croix du Bac with notices printed on the walls of
the village in German. It had once been their second line.

In the distance Armentieres gave me the impression of being almost
untouched, but on closer inspection the terrible part was that only the
mere shells of the houses were left standing. Bailleul was like a city
of the dead. I saw no returned inhabitants along its desolate streets.
The Mont des Cats was on our left with the famous monastery at its
summit where Prince Rupprecht of Bavaria had been tended by the monks
when lying wounded. In return for their kindness he gave orders that the
monastery was to be spared, and so it was for some time. But whether he
repented of his generosity or not I can't say. It must certainly have
been badly shelled since, as its walls now testify. On our right was
Kemmel with its pill-boxes making irregular bumps against the sky-line.
One place was pointed out to me as being the site of a once famous
tea-garden where a telescope had been installed, for visitors to view
the surrounding country.

We passed through St. Jans Capelle, Berthen, Boschepe, and so to the
frontier into Belgium. The first sight that greeted our eyes was Remy
siding, a huge cemetery, one of the largest existing, where rows upon
rows of wooden crosses stretched as far as the eye could see.

We drove to Ypres via Poperinghe and Vlamertinge and saw the famous
"Goldfish" Chateau on our left, which escaped being shelled, an