ttlement; but it is not
always wise. During these first few months of their being at war
the Americans have discovered England in almost as novel a sense as
Columbus did America. It was a joy to be with them and to watch their
surprise. The odd thing was that they had had to go to France to
find us out. Here they were, the picked business men of the world's
greatest industrial nation, frankly and admiringly hats off to British
"muddle-headed" methods. Not only were they hats off to the methods,
many of which they were copying, but they were also hats off to the
generous helpfulness of our Government and Military authorities in the
matter of advice, co-operation and supplies. From the private in the
ranks, who had been trained by British N.C.O.'s and Officers, to
the Generals at the head of departments, there was only one feeling
expressed for Great Britain--that of a new sincerity of friendship and
admiration. "John Bull and his brother Jonathan" had become more than
an empty phrase; it expressed a true and living relation.

A similar spirit of appreciation had grown up towards the French--not
the emotional, histrionic, Lafayette appreciation with which the
American troops sailed from America, but an appreciation based on
sympathy and a knowledge of deeds and character. I think this spirit
was best illustrated at Christmas when all over France, wherever
American troops were billeted, the rank and file put their hands deep
into their pockets to give the refugee children of their district the
first real Christmas they had had since their country was invaded.
Officers were selected to go to Paris to do the purchasing of the
presents, and I know of at least one case in which the men's gift was
so generous that there was enough money left over to provide for the
children throughout the coming year.

In France one hears none of that patronising criticism which used
to exist in America with regard to the older nations--none of those
arrogant assertions that "because we are younger we can do things
better." The bias of the American in France is all the other way; he
is near enough to the Judgment Day, which he is shortly to experience,
to be reverent in the presence of those who have stood its test. He is
in France to learn as well as to contribute. Between himself and his
brother soldiers of the British and French armies, there exists an
entirely manly and reciprocal respect. And it is reciprocal; both the
individual British