laughable episodes was considerably enhanced, at least according to the ideas of the boys, by the choruses, in which the audience generally joined. An orchestra of five did valiant service. Altogether the Americans enjoyed the performance hugely, though several times the explosions of shells sounded with unpleasant distinctness. After it was all over Don, Dunstan and Chase met so many poilus who were eager to converse with them, especially on the subject of America's entrance into the great war, that their departure was long delayed—so long delayed indeed that an idea came into the art student's head. "Fellows," he said, "there's a great deal in first impressions." "What's the sequel to that remark?" asked Chase. "It just occurred to me that we might tarry around here even longer, so that we might get our first view of the famous Château de Morancourt by the mystic light of the moon." "'Peewee' should have heard that!" chuckled Don. "If your artistic spirit craves that shadows and gloom should hover over the old pile of stones and make it suggest a picture-postal, so be it," grinned Chase. "Very good!" said Dunstan. Standing by the side of a tree, he began tapping on the bark. The smiling Don translated the following message: "Perhaps the castle by moonlight may be too much for our friend's nerves." The aviator's son replied: "I wonder if he'll have an irresistible impulse to run." "He wasn't cut out for this sort of life." "No; an easy chair in an office for him." "Bodkins' woodpeckers again!" broke in Chase, with a yawn. "A funny kind of a habit, I call it."