heerfulness. They were alive; they had done their duty, and they
had the proof of it in the coming souvenirs of scars.

Some of the forms on stretchers had peaceful faces in unconsciousness
of their condition. Others had a look of wonder, of pain, of
apprehension in their consciousness that death might be near. The single
word "Shrapnel!" by a hospital-corps corporal told the story of crushed
or lacerated features, in explanation of a white cloth covering a head
with body uninjured.

Feller, strolling out into the garden under the spell of watching shell
bursts, saw what Marta was doing. With the same feeling of relief at
opportunity for action that she had felt, he hastened to assist her,
bringing flowers by the basketful and pausing to watch her distribute
them--watching her rather than the wounded and enjoying incidental
thrills at examples of the efficiency of artillery fire.

"The guns--the guns are going to play a great part!" he thought. "These
rapid-firers will recover all the artillery's prestige of Napoleon's
time!"

Many of the wounded themselves looked at Marta even more than at the
flowers. It was good to see the face of a woman, her eyes limpid with
sympathy, and it was not what she said but the way she spoke that
brought smiles in response to hers. For she was no solemn ministering
angel, but high-spirited, cheery, of the sort that the major surgeon
would have chosen to distribute flowers to the men. Every remark of the
victims of war made its distinct and indelible impression on the
gelatine of her mind.

"I like my blue aster better than that yellow weed of yours, Tom!"

"You didn't know Ed Schmidt got it? Yes, he was right next me in the
line."

"Say, did you notice Dellarme's smile? It was wonderful."

"And old Bert Stransky! I heard him whistling the wedding march as he
fired."

"Miss, I'll keep this flower forever!"

"They say Billy Lister will live--his cheek was shot away!"

"Once we got going I didn't mind. It seemed as if I'd been fighting for
years!"

"Hole no bigger than a lead-pencil. I'll be back in a week!"

"Yes; don't these little bullets make neat little holes?"

"We certainly gave them a surprise when they came up the hill! I wonder
if we missed the fellow that jumped into the shell crater!"

"Our company got it worst!"

"Not any worse than ours, I'll wager!"

"Oh--oh--can't you go easier? Oh-h-h--" the groan ending in a clenching
of the teeth.

"Hello, Jake! You