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"When the French were gone the Germans drove us out," went on the
narrator; "and, of the men, they made several of us march ahead of them
down the road into the next village, we holding up our hands and loudly
begging those within the houses not to fire, for fear of killing us who
were their friends and neighbors. When this town surrendered the
Germans let us go, but first one of them gave me a cake of chocolate.
"Yet when I tried to go to aid a wounded Frenchman who lay in the
fields, another German, I thought, fired at me. I heard the bullet--it
buzzed like a hornet. So then I ran away and found my son here; and we
came across the country, following the canals and avoiding the roads,
which were filled with German troops. When we had gone a mile we looked
back and there was much thick smoke behind us--our houses were burning,
I suppose. So last night we slept in the woods and all day we walked,
and to-night reached here, bringing with us nothing except the clothes
on our backs.


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