ever come when the butchers have killed all save one French boy and girl, when the weapon is lifted against them, they will stand against the wall of the Pyrenees, and the last Frenchman might die, but he will never be conquered by the Huns. THE TRIBUTE OF THE BRITISH Americans oftentimes marvel at the praise that the British and the French bestow upon the armies of the other. Each insists upon considering the other superior to himself. One August day, in a Paris restaurant, a young English captain, quiet, reserved, modest to a degree, was praising the French soldiers and officers whom he had met. Having just returned from the front of Ypres and La Bassée he was so filled with admiration for the fortitude, the endurance, and the heroism of the French soldiers, that he sought in vain for words bright enough with which to describe their achievements. Asked for the reason of his eulogy, and his conviction as to the supremacy of the French, the British captain answered, "You must remember that the Frenchman is fighting for his native land, while England has never been invaded by the Huns." Then the captain went on to praise the British rifles, machine guns, their military tactics, and the skill of their soldiers. "When my company march, they are so perfectly drilled that their one hundred right legs swing like the single stroke of a pendulum. I will put my men against the soldiers of the world. Still," he said, "so far as I now recall, no English division ever brought in at one time more than one fourth their number as prisoners." A PICTURE OF THE FRENCH FIGHT "But," added the captain, "look at the French soldiers at Verdun. One had a helmet, one a hat, some were bareheaded; some had new rifles, some old rifles, and some only a bayonet and revolver. When they were within ten rods of the German trench they lifted up their bayonets and sent out their battle cry, and hearing the hoarse voices, the Germans flung away their guns, climbed out of their trenches, ran like rabbits and bellowed like bulls; that night when the French division came home for supper, they brought ten thousand Germans along with them. You can't beat the French--they are fighting for their native land." That is a reason, but it is not _the_ reason. The reason is this--the Frenchman counts himself dead already. If he survives to-day's battle, he says, The morrow will give me another chance to die for God and beautiful France. The Frenchman never knows when he is defeated, and therefore he cannot be beaten.