As it swirled down the wind
in our direction the vigilant balloon guns again got its range, and, to
the throbbing tune of their twin boomings, it ducked and dodged away,
executing irregular and hurried upward spirals until the cloud-fleece
swallowed it up.
The driver of that monoplane was a persistent chap. I am inclined to
believe he was the selfsame aviator who ventured well inside the German
lines the following morning. While at breakfast in the prefecture at
Laon we heard the cannoneer-sharpshooters when they opened on him; and
as we ran to the windows--we Americans, I mean, the German officers
breakfasting with us remaining to finish their coffee--we saw a colonel,
whom we had met the night before, sitting on a bench in the old
prefecture flower garden and looking up into the skies through the
glasses that every German officer, of whatsoever degree, carries with
him at all times.
He looked and looked; then he lowered his glasses and put them back into
their case, and took up the book he had been reading.
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