The Colonel’s mess is at the Curé’s house. It too is a pleasant place to be, for the Colonel lays aside his official air of severity when he comes to the table, and is his genial, lovable self. The Curé dines with us—a stalwart mountaineer who keeps a young boar in his back yard as a family pet. One would have thought him afraid of nothing. But courage comes by habit; and I found that the Curé had his weak side. His years had not accustomed him to the freaks of a drunken man—a testimonial to his parishioners. We had a cook, an old Irishman, who could give a new flavor to nectar on Olympus; that is, if he didn’t drink too much of it first. But he would, trust Paddy for that, even if threatened with Vulcan’s fate of being pitched out headfirst for his offense. One day Tom Heaney and Billy Hearn came running for me. Paddy on the rampage! The aged _bonne_ in hysterics. The Curé at his wits’ end. Come! I went. I found Paddy red-eyed and excited, and things in a mess. I curtly ordered him into a chair, and sent for Doc. Houghton, our mess officer, to do justice. Meanwhile I studied a map on the wall, with my back turned to the offender, and the following one-sided dialogue ensued—like a telephone scene at a play. “It’s that’s making me mad.” A pause, “I don’t like you anyway.” A pause. “You’re no good of a priest. If I was dying I wouldn’t”—(reconsidering)—“I hope to God when I’m dying I won’t have to put up with the likes of you.” A long pause. “I’ve long had me opinion of you. I’ll tell it to you if you like.” A pause—with me saying to myself “Now you’ll get the truth.” “I’ll tell it to you. I’ve been wanting to do it time and times.... You smoke cigarettes with the Officers, that’s what you do.” A sigh of relief, and the thought “I could have said more than that myself.” Then in bursts Colonel Hine and Paddy was hustled away for punishment. But I know what will happen. We shall eat army food _au naturel_ for a week or so; and some noon the meal will be so good that we shall all eat more than is good for men with work still to do, and nobody shall ask a question about it, for everybody will know that Paddy, God bless him! is back on the job once more. Of course I have a special liking for him because when he was in a mood to denounce me he let me off so light. GRAND _December_ 25th, 1917 If there is one day in all the year that wanderers from home cannot afford to forget it is Christmas. The Company Commanders have had their Mess Sergeants scouring the countryside for eatables.