“But where is the cook stove?” asked one of the lassies after they had set up their two folding cots in one of the smaller tents and made themselves at home. Dismay descended upon the face of the weary Staff-Captain. “Why,” he answered apologetically, “we forgot all about that!” and he hurried out to find a stove. A thorough search of the surrounding country, however, disclosed the fact that there was not a stove nor a field range to be had—no, not even from the commissary. There was nothing for it but to set to work and contrive a fireplace out of field stone and clay, with a bit of sheet iron for a roof, and two or three lengths of old sewer pipe carefully wired together for a stovepipe. It took days of hard work, and it smoked woefully except when the wind was exactly west, but the girls made fudge enough on it for the entire personnel of the Ammunition train to celebrate when it was finished. When the girls first arrived in Montiers the Salvation Army Staff-Captain was rather at a loss to know what to do with them until the hut was built. They were invited to chow with the soldiers, and to eat in an old French barn used as a kitchen, in front of which the men lined up at the open doorways for mess. It was a very dirty barn indeed, with heavy cobwebs hanging in weird festoons from the ceiling and straw and manure all over the floor; quite too barnlike for a dining-hall for delicately reared women. The Staff-Captain hesitated about bringing them there, but the Mess-Sergeant offered to clean up a corner for them and give them a comfortable table. “I don’t know about bringing my girls in here with the men,” said the Staff-Captain still hesitating. “You know the men are pretty rough in their talk, and they’re always cussing!” “Leave that to me!” said the Mess-Sergeant. “It’ll be all right!” There was an old dirty French wagon in the barnyard where they kept the bread. It was not an inviting prospect and the Staff-Captain looked about him dubiously and went away with many misgivings, but there seemed to be nothing else to be done. The boys did their best to fix things up nicely. When meal time arrived and the girls appeared they found their table neatly spread with a dish towel for a tablecloth. It purported to be clean, but there are degrees of cleanliness in the army and there might have been a difference of opinion. However, the girls realized that there had been a strenuous attempt to do honor to them and they sat down on the coffee kegs that had been provided _en lieu_ of chairs with smiling appreciation.