"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!"

The cashier behind the counter, who evidently foresaw trouble, called
out to him in shrill tones:

"You've made a mistake, go back to the _buvette_. You've nothing to do
out here!"

Removing his helmet, the gallant knight made the lady a sweeping bow.

"Your servant, Madame. Your humble servant," he continued. "Cyprien
Fremont, called Cyp for short."

"Did you hear what I said? Now then, take yourself off," cried the
ungracious adored one.

But the _poilu_ was not to be so silenced.

Putting his hand to his heart and addressing the assembly:

"Ungrateful country!" he cried, "is it thus that you receive your sons
who shed their blood for you?"

"That's all right, but go and tell it elsewhere. Go on, I say!"

"I've only got one more word to say and then it will be over."

But before he could utter that word his companions seized him and
dragged him back from whence he came. As he disappeared from view, we
heard him announce his intention of "doing some stunts"--which offer
was apparently joyously accepted, followed by more laughter and several
"dares."

Suddenly the most terrific noise of falling and breaking glass and
china brought every one to his feet. Excited voices could be heard
from the direction in which Cyprien had vanished. The army police
dashed in, followed by the station master and all the employes. A
lengthy discussion was begun, and having finished our dinner we left
matters to adjust themselves and sauntered forth onto the platform.

Here we found our Cyprien surrounded by his companions, who were busy
disinfecting and binding up the wounds that he had received when the
china cabinet had collapsed upon him. One of the men poured the
tincture of iodine onto a hand held fast by a friend. Two others were
rolling a bandage about his head, while the patient, far from subdued,
waved the only free but much enveloped hand that he possessed, beating
time to the air that he was literally shouting and in whose rather bald
verse the station master's wife was accused of the grossest infidelity.

"Shh! Cyprien," his friends enjoined; "shut up a bit, can't you?"

But it was no easy thing to impose silence upon Cyprien when he had
made up his mind to manifest a thought or an opinion.

"You'll get us all into trouble, old man, see if you don't. Cut it
out, won't you? See, here comes an officer."

The officer approached them.

"It's not his fault