accept four. This almost caused a revolution.
The four Germans were quartered in a shed and an old territorial
mounted guard over them.

"They were good fellows," Julie explained when she told me the story.
"Hard workers too. Very kind to the animals and understanding
everything about a farm. I don't know--I used to have a funny feeling
when I saw them. But, poor souls, I don't suppose they wanted the war,
they'd probably have much rather been home and yet they were as
obliging as could be. Always ready to lend a hand when there was a
hard job to be tackled.

"They made rather a good impression, and two or three of our women
farmers had almost decided to send for some. Well, this lasted until
the next Sunday. As they were all catholics, of course they came to
church, and were seated on the first bench, with their sentinel at the
end. Everything went finely until the Curate got up to preach, first
reading the announcements for the week. When he asked that prayers be
said for Jules Lefoulon and Paul Dupont, both from our parish and both
killed on the Field of Honour, and we looked up we could see the four
Boche sitting calmly in front of us--I can't tell you what it meant!
Every one was weeping. Of course, we didn't let them feel it. They
saluted every one most politely, you could almost see that they weren't
bad men--but every one said, 'No, none of their help needed. We've got
on without them up till now. I fancy we can see it through.'"

Even Madame Fusil, the baker, who was in most urgent need of
assistance, resolved to be equal to her task alone. It is her little
daughter who delivers the bread to all the numerous patrons, quite a
complicated undertaking for so young a child, who must drive her poor
old nag and his load down many a bumpy side path. One can hear her
little voice all over the country side. "Here Jupiter--get up, I say."

I met her one morning in the Chemin du Moulin, whip in hand, pulling
old Jupiter by the bridle. But Jupiter had decided to take a rest.
Nothing could make him budge, nothing, neither cries nor complaints,
sweetmeats nor menaces. Jupiter was as determined as he was obstinate.

The unfortunate child was red with indignation, almost on the verge of
tears.

"_Oui, oui,_" she fairly sobbed, "he just ought to be sent to the
front. That would teach him a lesson. He does it on purpose, I do
believe. He knows well enough I'll be late to school! It's already
half pas