erything and everybody; all the tricks of the trade,
all the tricks of the soldiers. He had seen all the Generals, and all
the Armies from the British to the Portuguese.

He had an intimate acquaintance with all the different branches of
warfare, as well as a keen memory for slang and patois. He nourished
but one fond hope in his bosom--a hope which in moments of expansion he
imparts, if he considers you worthy of his confidence.

"In four years I'll volunteer for the aviation corps."

"In four years? That's a long way off, my lad. That's going some, I
should say," called a _poilu_ who had overheard the confession.

"Look here, Business, did I hear you say it won't be over in four
years?" asked another.

"Over? Why, it'll have only just begun. It was the Americans on the
motor trucks who told me so, and I guess they ought to know!"

We watched him distribute his packages, make change and take down his
next day's orders, in a much soiled note-book, and with the aid of a
stubby pencil which he was obliged to wet every other letter. When he
had finished a soldier slipped over towards him.

"I say, Paul," he called out to him, "would you do us the honour of
dining with us? We've got a package from home. Bring your brother
with you."

Business was touched to the quick.

"I'm your man," he answered. "And with pleasure. But you must let me
furnish the _aperatif_."

"Just as you say, old man."

Brusquely turning about, the future tradesman sought for his clerk who
had disappeared.

"Mimile," he shouted, "Mimile, I say, run and tell mamma to iron our
shirts and put some polish on our shoes. I'll finish to-day's job by
myself."

IV

Not satisfied with the havoc wrought in Soissons and other cities of
the front, the Boche is now trying to encircle the head of Paris with
the martyr's crown. The capital, lately comprised in the army zone,
has been called upon to pay its blood tax, and like all the other
heroic maimed and wounded, has none the less retained its good humour,
its confidence and its serenity.

"It will take more than that to prevent us from going to the cafes,"
smiled an old Parisian, shrugging his shoulders.

And this sentiment was certainly general if one were to judge by the
crowd who literally invaded the _terrasses_ between five and seven, and
none of whom seemed in the least preoccupied or anxious.

_Aperatifs_ have long since ceased to be anything save pleasant
remembranc