_The scene is the same trench in the year 2018. It is eleven o'clock of the same summer morning. Four American schoolgirls, of from fifteen to seventeen years, have been brought to see the trench, a relic of the Great War, in charge of their teacher. The teacher, a worn and elderly person, has imagination, and is stirred, as far as her tired nerves may be, by the heroic story of the old ditch. One of the schoolgirls also has imagination and is also stirred. The other three are "young barbarians at play." Two out of five is possibly a large proportion to be blessed with imagination, but the American race has improved in a hundred years_. _Teacher_. This, girls, is an important bit of our sight-seeing. It is the last of the old trenches of the Great War to remain intact in all northern France. It was left untouched out of the reverence of the people of the country for one hundred Americans of the Blank_th_ Regiment, who died here--in this old ditch. The regiment had charged too soon, by a mistaken order, across what was called No-Man's Land, from their own front trench, about (_consults guide-book_)--about thirty-five yards away--that would be near where you see the red poppies so thick in the wheat. They took the trench from the Germans, and were then wiped out partly by artillery fire, partly by a German machine gun which was placed, disguised, at the end of the trench and enfiladed the entire length. Three-quarters of the regiment, over two thousand men, were killed in this battle. Since then the regiment has been known as the "Charging Blank_th_." _First Schoolgirl_. Wouldn't those poppies be lovely on a yellow hat? _Second Schoolgirl_. Ssh! The Eye is on you. How awful, Miss Hadley! And were they all killed? Quite a tragedy! _Third Schoolgirl_. Not a yellow hat! Stupid! A corn-colored one--just the shade of the grain with the sun on it. Wouldn't it be lovely! When we get back to Paris-- _Fourth Schoolgirl (the one with imagination_). You idiots! You poor kittens! _First Schoolgirl_. If we ever do get back to Paris! _Teacher_. (_Wearily_.) Please pay attention. This is one of the world's most sacred spots. It is the scene of a great heroism. It is the place where many of our fellow countrymen laid down their lives. How can you stand on this solemn ground and chatter about hats? _Third Schoolgirl_. Well, you see, Miss Hadley, we're fed up with solemn grounds. You can't expect us to go into raptures at this stage over an old ditch. And, to be serious, wouldn't some of those field flowers make a lovely combination for hats? With the French touch, don't you know? You'd be darling in one--so _ingenue!_ _Second Schoolgirl_. Ssh! She'll kill you. (_Three girls turn their backs and stifle a giggle_.) _Teacher_. Girls, you may be past your youth yourselves one day. _First Schoolgirl_. (_Airily._) But we're well preserved so far, Miss Hadley.