In what I will particularise as the ---- area of the War zone, there is a small village-by-a-stream where Generals stride about the narrow streets or whirl through them in gigantic cars, and guards at every corner clank and turn out umpty times a day. Down in the hollow the stream by the village laughs placidly along, mocking at the Great War, but I doubt if the Generals have much time to listen to it, for the village-by-the-stream is a Corps Headquarters. However the Doctor led us (which includes the War Babe and James the Acting Adjutant) to the village-by-the-stream, where, just across the stone bridge, he indicated on the wall of a house the legend: RESTAURANT FOR OFFICERS. TEA, COFFEE, CHAMPAGNE AND ALL SUCH ARTICLE IS SELL HERE. "Tea," he said feelingly, "and there will be china cups and thin bread-and- butter, and real milk and come along in." It was rather a composite restaurant. There was a glassed-in balcony with tables and chairs; and all around there were puttees, handkerchiefs, paper-weights, inkstands, wrist-watches and electric torches. There were loose-leaved pocket diaries of abominable ingenuity (irresistible to Adjutants); collars and ties to clothe the neck of man, and soap to wash it withal. Hair lotions, safety-razors, _pate de foie gras_, sponges and writing-pads jostled each other on the shelves. Walking-sticks and bottles of champagne lay in profusion on the floor. It was less of a restaurant than an emporium, but the Doctor sat down contentedly and rang the bell; and the War Babe threw out battle patrols to reconnoitre the position. He passed unscathed through the barrage of sticks and diaries; evaded skilfully the indirect fire of electric torches; reached his first objective among the soap-boxes, and there met his fate. "Doctor," he demanded suddenly, "what's 'savon jollymouse'?" "Savon," the doctor began didactically, "is a preparation of fatty acids saponified with alkali. It is principally manufactured from coker-nut oil, although other similar, if less offensive, substances are sometimes employed. In the English tongue it is known as 'soap,' and----" "You idiot," said the War Babe amiably, "I know what 'savon' is. But what's a 'jollymouse'?" "A rodent," replied the Doctor--"a small rodent in a state of mental exhilaration or merriment." "Rats." "Yes, the same definition would also apply to rats. _Jolly_ rats, that is to say." "You're very bright to-day, Doctor," said the War Babe, "but it doesn't happen to be that kind of mouse at all. It's j-o-l-i, jolly; m-o-u-s-s-e ----" "Why didn't you say that before? That's quite different. It's pronounced moose--zholimoose." The War Babe sniffed. "I don't believe you know what it means any more than I do." "Son of Mars," the Doctor answered gravely, "you are measuring my ignorance by your own--a great mistake. As a matter of fact that word is put on the packet simply to deceive unwary Babes. It has nothing whatever to do with soap."