them down here, whose axles they have never ceased to
grease, just as they have always kept their magnificent horses shod and
ready to harness, that at a moment's notice old women and children may
be hoisted into the straw and the whole caravan thread its way
northward towards the native village; that village of which they have
never ceased to talk, about which they tell the youngsters, who
scarcely remember it now.
"Ah, Madame," exclaimed one poor old soul in a phrase that might have
seemed comic if it hadn't been so infinitely profound and touching.
"Ah, Madame, even if there isn't anything left, it will be our village
just the same!"
Alas! I know but too well the fate of such villages at the front,
occupied by the enemy, crushed beneath his iron heel, or subjected to
his gun fire.
X
It was Aunt Rose's custom to spend one week out of every four at her
country seat. With the war had come the shortage of labour, and now
that her head man had been mobilised it was necessary for some one to
take direct control, superintend and manage these valuable farm lands
which must do their share towards national support.
It needed no urging to persuade us to accompany her.
"My farmers haven't the time to make the trip to town individually, so
I get a list of their wants and my coming saves them so much trouble."
So early one morning a big break was driven up to the door, and in less
than five minutes it was so full of bundles and packages that I had my
doubts as to our all fitting in, not to mention the word "comfortably."
And when finally we did jog away it took every effort of the broad
backed dray horse, who had been sent from the farm, to pull us up the
long sunny hills, so frequent in this region.
The village which would be our ultimate destination was twelve miles
from any station, and the nearest railway a funny little two-foot-gauge
road, whose locomotives were comic to behold, their vociferous attempts
at whistling not even frightening the baby calves who stood and stared
at them indifferently as they passed. Furthermore, the line was no
longer in public service, save on market days at Le Donjon.
Our route lay through an admirable, undulating country which seemed to
be totally deserted, for not even a stray dog crossed our path. Far in
the distance, however, from time to time one might hear the throb of a
motor.
"They are winnowing almost everywhere today," explained Aunt Rose,
"taking advan
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