My Home In The Field of Honor

My Home In The Field of Honor

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My Home In The Field of Honor by Frances Wilson Huard

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My Home In The Field of Honor

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his situation. To the credit of the gendarme and all those in authority, it must be said that contrary to their usual custom they acted like loving fathers with these prodigal sons of the Republic--possible information without the sign of a grumble, and advising those who were still streaming in at the door to come back towards five o'clock, when the line should have advanced a little. It was then scarcely ten A. M.!

H. had finished in no time.

"All I've got to do is to go home and wait until I am called for," he explained as we walked away at a brisk gait.

Like most country people when they come to town I had numerous errands to do, so we set off towards the _Bazar de l'Hotel de Ville_, renowned for its farming implements.

At the corner of the Rue des Archives we met Monsieur Gauthier on his way to his Museum.

"_Grave--tre's grave--la situation, Monsieur_," was all he could say.

"What would you advise us to do?"

"Well, to speak plainly, I should advise you to shut up the chat

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