"Still," said the pessimists, "the order might be cancelled"—which was quite possible.

                We settled down to wait, struggling through our mornings of foot-drill as leisurely as possible and scientifically "burning the bush" in the afternoons. In the evenings we gathered around the fires in our billets and discussed the rumors of the day, or would dismally ponder over the recently received news of National Prohibition.

                A football game with C Battery broke the monotony for a while. Despite a large sum of money wagered with the sporting element of C, the Battery lost, 6-0, in a desperately fought game. Again the people of Varennes murmured: "Quel horreur!" as the two teams splashed about in the muddy pasture, and wondered what punishment forced the Americans to so torment themselves.

                The glorious day arrived when orders for departure were received, and we set about saying fare­ well to our French friends and getting our equipment ready. But, observe what happens. It is the night of January 16; (we are ordered to depart on the 17th. Several members of the "Jiks" are enjoying a farewell dinner with the Garnier's who live next door to their billet. The air is thick with polite speeches expressing regret at leaving and promising to write when the destination is reached. A knock is heard at the door; a neighbor has come to tell Madame Garnier the news "The Americans are not to leave till January 25; their orders are changed." Madame Gamier beams. The "Jiks" try to appear agreeably surprised at the prospect of a delay in the movement

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