Into the city of Coblenz poured the American army in columns that seemed endless. Over the Rhine they went on two bridges that spanned the great river that stretched out like a broad silver ribbon as far as their eyes could see. At last the Rhine was under American control, and a German could not even cross it without permission from an American sentry. On the other side of the river from Coblenz was the great fortress of Ehrenbreitstein, one of the strongest and most famous in Germany. It covered many acres and stood on a rocky promontory, four hundred feet above the level of the river. It could hold a hundred thousand men if necessary. It had cisterns hewed out of the solid rock that could hold water enough to supply a garrison of eight thousand men for ten years. There were mammoth underground passages and magazines for supplies and ammunition. From its rocky height it seemed to be able to defy the world. The German flag had floated over the fortress for a hundred years. Now Old Glory was hoisted in its place and the pulses of the boys thrilled as the Stars and Stripes spread out proudly in the breeze. Part of the army was stationed in Coblenz, but many thousands were placed in the fortress itself, which was henceforth to serve as American barracks. Then for the first time since they had landed in France the American army really rested. Their main work was done and well done. They had fought the good fight. They had kept the faith. Not that the army discipline grew lax. The men were kept in shape for any emergency. At a day’s notice if necessary they could resume fighting. But there were many hours every day that they had to themselves and they were as full of high spirits as so many colts turned out to pasture. On one such day after they had had some good wrestling and boxing matches Billy’s effervescence found vent in an offer to sing them a song “so pathetic that it will bring tears to your eyes.” “Oh, cut out that stuff,” chaffed Bart. “Isn’t there enough trouble in the world without your singing songs to make us weep?” “Aw, this isn’t going to be the kind of a song you think it is,” protested Billy. “This song isn’t aimed to make you shed tears of sadness, the one and only idea being to double you up with spontaneous and irresistible laughter. You’ve heard the old saying, haven’t you, ‘to laugh till you cry’? Of course you have, and that’s what I have in mind.” “I never knew you had a gift for singing comic songs,” said Tom, suspiciously, “and what’s more, I don’t mind going a little further and saying I didn’t know you could sing any kind of a song at all.” “That just goes to show how ignorant you are,” retorted Billy, “you just wait till you hear me sing this song, and see if it isn’t every bit as good as I say it is.” “What’s the name of this wonderful composition?” asked Tom.