Then there are the newspapers. We read them right through, beginning at the advertisements and not skipping even the leading articles. Then, when we have finished, we frequently read them right through again. They serve three purposes. They give us information as to how the War is progressing--we get none here, the rank and file, that is; they serve to pass the time; and they afford us topics for conversation. For instance, they enable us to follow and discuss the trend of home politics. And in this connection, I think it is time you were introduced to Captain Achille Petitpois. (That is not his real name, but it is as near to it as most of us are likely to get.) He is one of that most efficient body, the French _liaison_ officers, who act as connecting-link between the Allied Forces, and naturally is an accomplished linguist. He is an ardent admirer of British institutions, but is occasionally not a little puzzled by their complexity. So he very sensibly comes to people like Captain Wagstaffe for enlightenment, and they enlighten him. Behold Achille--a guest in A Company's billet--drinking whisky-and-sparklet out of an aluminium mug, and discussing the news of the day. "And your people at home," he said, "you think they are taking the War seriously?" (Achille is addicted to reading the English newspapers without discrimination.) "So seriously," replied Wagstaffe instantly, "that it has become necessary for the Government to take steps to cheer them up." "Comment?" inquired Achille politely. For answer Wagstaffe picked up a three-day-old London newspaper, and read aloud an extract from the Parliamentary report. The report dealt faithfully with the latest antics of the troupe of eccentric comedians which appears (to us), since the formation of the Coalition Government, to have taken possession of the front Opposition Bench. "Who are these assassins--these imbeciles--these _crétins_," inquired Petitpois, "who would endanger the ship of the State?" (Achille prides himself upon his knowledge of English idiom.) "Nobody knows!" replied Wagstaffe solemnly. "They are children of mystery. Before the War, nobody had ever heard of them. They--" "But they should be shot!" explained that free-born Republican, Petitpois. "Not a bit, old son! That is where you fail to grasp the subtleties of British statesmanship. I tell you there are no flies on our Cabinet!" "Flies?" "Yes: _mouches_, you know. The agility of our Cabinet Ministers is such that these little insects find it impossible to alight upon them." "Your Ministers are athletes--yes," agreed Achille comprehendingly. "But the--" "Only intellectually. What I mean is that they are a very downy collection of old gentlemen--" Achille, murmuring something hazy about "Downing Street," nodded his head. "--And when they came into power, they knew as well as anything that after three weeks or so the country would begin to grouse--" "Grouse? A sporting bird?" interpolated Achille.