caissons. Noon, and the destination is reached.

                Ville-devant-Belrain, our new home, presents a cheerful appearance, after the ghastly bareness of Seraucourt. Adrian barracks with bunks for the men, sheds for the horses. What luxury! Word is passed around that we shall rest here for at least three days and with a sigh of gratification, we set out to explore the town. No difficult task this, for Ville-devant-Belrain is but one degree larger than Seraucourt. There is a church, whose tower over­ shadows the whole town; there are two stores where one may purchase such luxuries as rather doubtful champagne, beer, dried figs, and even, it is rumored, that rarest of delicacies, condensed milk. Decidedly, we are well "set" here.

                Let not the uninitiated be deceived by the sonorous name, Ville-devant-Belrain, suggestive of ancient, massive buildings, of age, mellowed cathedrals, and rich stained glass. The smaller and poorer the French town, the more imposing and longer the name. Let the big cities be content with brief, uncommunicative monosyllabic titles: Tours, Toul, Metz, Nice, those are all very well for your metropolis, but your tiny isolated hamlet must rejoice under some ponderous, hyphenated name. Jouy-sous-les-Cotes, Mandres-aux- quartre-Tours: these are the appellations for your one-streeted villages. For instance, a smaller town than Ville-devant-Belrain, and in the same vicinity, would undoubtedly weight itself down with some such tongue-tripping name as St. Mathilde-les-belle- sous-Ville-devant-Belrain.

                Comfortably billeted in the Adrians, with the pros­

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