"And they did come. Just after it was dark they made a biggish raid and got into our front trench a little to our right. We started bombing inwards, but the slope of the ground was awkward, and they seemed to be having the best of the fun.
"Then Parks jumped up on to the parapet with a pail of bombs and ran along. He fairly got among them, and by the time he was hit in the right leg they were mostly casualties or prisoners. I saw him on the stretcher going back. He was in some pain, but he smiled, and said, 'One stocking will be enough now, Sir.'"
"Very extraordinary," I began, but James stopped me.
"I haven't finished," he said. "When about three months later I went down to Southmouth Convalescent Camp, almost the first man I saw was Private Parks. He was still on crutches, but _he had two legs_. I greeted him, and then I couldn't resist saying, 'What about the stocking?'
"'I'll tell you, Sir,' he said. 'For a week after I was wounded it was a toss up whether they took the leg off or not. Then a parcel arrived for me. It was the other stocking. My aunt had discovered that she had left it out. That evening the surgeon decided that they need not amputate. I knew they wouldn't, of course, as soon as I received the parcel.'"
James had really finished this time, and after a moment's reflection I said, "I wonder if that's true."
"I don't know about that. Not with intent," I said, "though it would really be more to your credit if you'd made it up."
"As a matter of fact," said James, "I did make it up. It was suggested to me by the heading to a letter in this paper--'The Stocking of Private Parks,' though that appears to be upon quite a different subject. Something agricultural, I gather."
"By a comparison of the wet and dry bulb registrations the dew point and the humility of the atmosphere is determined."
In the first week of August, at any rate, the atmosphere had no reason to swank.
AMERICAN EAGLE (_to German Peace Doves_). "GO AWAY; I'M BUSY."]
[Illustration: _Chatty Waiter (to visitor growing stouter every day_).
"I'M SURE, SIR YOUR STAY HERE IS DOING YOU GOOD. WHY, YOU'RE TWICE THE GENTLEMAN YOU WERE WHEN YOU CAME."]
Dear ----,--We got here safely, with the usual submarine scares _en route_, but apparently no real danger. Vessels going westward from England are not much the U-boats' concern, nor are the U's, I guess, particularly keen on wasting torpedoes on passenger ships. What they want to sink is the goods.