One of these streets is called "La rue des Quatres Ponts." It is as pretty as its name, but the American boys don't see any beauty in any of it, and I can't blame them. All they care about is "God's own country." I do hope for their sakes that the Division will be ordered to move soon. I am happy and well, and spring is in the air. Feb. 18th. Here is another view of our tiny town. Just at present everything is buried under most fearful and wonderful mud. I never stir without my arctics. I am glad I brought two pairs. Yesterday being Sunday, I made about forty gallons of hot chocolate which I served in the tent all the afternoon. It was a rainy day and you should have seen the men pile in and gather round the huge army caldron with their cups. The tent was warm and cheerful and it was all very jolly. The day before I had a new experience. I rode over to Sémur in a side-car or "wife-killer" as they call them; you know, those little basket affairs attached to a motor-cycle. The Catholic chaplain who is also a young lieutenant, drove it, and we went about forty miles an hour over hill and dale. He was officiating at a funeral in Sémur, while I bought cups, dishpans, and various other utensils for our chocolate outfit. I packed them all into the side-car and you should have heard our load jingle and clatter as we whizzed back over the rough road! Feb. 23rd. Yesterday (Saturday afternoon) I walked with three officers to the town of Alise, about five miles from Pouillenay. It is a most picturesque little village on the hillside. Above it on the top of the hill is an enormous statue of Vercingetorix. It is here that he made his last stand against Cæsar. On the top of the hill are the ruins of a Roman village; a small coliseum, a temple with several beautiful columns still standing, baths, aqueducts, and all the paraphernalia of first class ruins. The three lieutenants I went with are very jolly, nice men, and we poked and pried into everything in most irreverent and frivolous spirit. One of them, Lieut. McK., a very young Princeton fellow, had recently studied up the ruins and kept giving information about them in highbrow manner. Every statement he made was immediately challenged by the others, and great betting contests arose as to the depth of wells, Roman methods of heating water, etc., all with the continuous stream of jokes that congenial Americans keep up when they are off for a good time. These were the officers of F Co., 311th Infantry, who have been very cordial to me. March 1st, 1919.