"And in the trenches, too, the tale of heroism unfolds itself hour by hour. Here is an example, one among ten thousand, the story of a wounded private: 'We lay together, my friend and I...The order to fire came. We shot and shot till our rifles burned us. Still they swarmed on towards us. We took careful aim all the while. "Ah, good, did you see that?" I turned to my friend and as I did so heard a terrible dull sound like a spade striking upon newly turned earth. His head was fallen forward. I spoke, I called him by name. He was moaning a little. Then I turned to my work again. They are advancing quickly now. Ah! how cool I was. I shot so slowly,...so very slowly. "'And then--do you know what it feels like to be wounded? I rose just a little too high on my elbow. A sting that pierces my arm like a hot wire--too sharp almost to be sore. I felt my arm go away from me--it seemed like that--and then my rifle fell. I believe I was a little dazed. I looked at my friend presently. He was dead.' THE GRIM STORY OF SENLIS "So, on these green river banks and across these fair wooded plains the Germans make their great stand--the stand that if they are defeated will be their last in France. And meanwhile behind them lie the wasted fields and the broken villages. It is impossible adequately to describe the scenes which I have witnessed on the line of the great retreat, but here and there events have had place, which, in truth, cry to high heaven for report. Of such is the grim story of Senlis. "I spent many hours in Senlis and I will recount that story as I saw it and as I heard it from those who lived through the dreadful procession of days. On Saturday, September 5, the Germans reached this beautiful old cathedral town and entered into occupation. They issued a proclamation to the inhabitants calling upon them to submit and to offer no sort of resistance on pain of severe reprisals. "But the inhabitants of Senlis had already tasted the bitter draft of war making. The people had become bitter to the point of losing care of their own safety. They were reckless, driven to distraction. "Bitter was the price exacted for the recklessness! The trouble began when, exasperated beyond measure by their insolence, a brave tobacconist declared to a couple of the Prussians: 'I serve men, not bullies.' He followed his words with a blow delivered fiercely from the shoulder. "The infuriated soldiers dragged him from his shop and hurled him on his knees in front of the door. His wife rushed out shrieking for mercy. Mercy! As well ask it of a stone! A shot rang out...Another...Man and wife lay dead.