United States or Myanmar ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !


Through the front window I saw my friend drive away with t-d Number 2 and Nemo; then, having waved hasty farewell to all les Americains that I knew three in number and having exchanged affectionate greetings with Mr.

Le bureau de Monsieur le Ministre was just around the corner, as it proved. Before the door stood the patient F.I.A.T. I was ceremoniously informed by t-d that we would wait on the steps. Well! Did I know any more? the American driver wanted to know. Having proved to my own satisfaction that my fingers could still roll a pretty good cigarette, I answered: "No," between puffs.

"I think we're going to prison all right," he assured me. Braced by this news, poked from behind by my t-d, and waved on from before by M. le Ministre himself, I floated vaguely into a very washed, neat, business-like and altogether American room of modest proportions, whose door was immediately shut and guarded on the inside by my escort. Monsieur le Ministre said: "Lift your arms."

T-d seated himself beside me, opened a huge jack-knife, and fell to, after first removing his tin derby and loosening his belt. One of the pleasantest memories connected with that irrevocable meal is of a large, gentle, strong woman who entered in a hurry, and seeing me cried out: "What is it?" "It's an American, my mother," t-d answered through fried potatoes.

The visibility grew worse and apparently neither side scored on the other. As the British main fleet was reported somewhat to the east of Beatty's position, he bore toward that quarter; and Hipper, to avoid being "T-d" by his enemy, turned to the eastward correspondingly.

My eyes, jumping from those ears, lit on that helmet and noticed for the first time an emblem, a sort of flowering little explosion, or hair-switch rampant. It seemed to me very jovial and a little absurd. "We're on our way to Noyon, then?" T-d shrugged his shoulders. Here the driver's hat blew off. I heard him swear, and saw the hat sailing in our wake.

And his knife guillotined another delicious hunk of white bread. "C'est un Americain," t-d said by way of introduction. The newspaper detached itself from the man who said: "He's welcome indeed: make yourself at home, Mr. American" and bowed himself out. My captor immediately collapsed on one mattress. I asked permission to do the same on the other, which favor was sleepily granted.

The American drew nearer and whispered spectacularly: "Your friend is upstairs. I think they're examining him." T-d got this; and though his rehabilitated dignity had accepted the "makin's" from its prisoner, it became immediately incensed: "That's enough," he said sternly. And dragged me tout-a-coup upstairs, where I met B. and his t-d coming out of the bureau door. B. looked peculiarly cheerful.

There was no one moving about in the little court. I lingered somewhat on the way upstairs. The stairs were abnormally dirty. When I reentered, t-d was roaring to himself. I read the journal through again. It must have been about three o'clock. Suddenly t-d woke up, straightened and buckled his personality, and murmured: "It's time, come on."

"Oh hardly guillotined I should say," remarked t-d, in a voice which froze my marrow despite my high spirits; while the cook and carpenter gaped audibly and the mechanician clutched a hopelessly smashed carburetor for support. One of the section's voitures, a F.I.A.T., was standing ready. A. in particular, impressed me as being almost menacing.