Humberside Collegiate Institute - Hermes Yearbook (Toronto, Ontario Canada)

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X. German who were supposedly at each other's throats. 'Grump' happened to mention the fact that he lived in a bachelor's club when in England. Then you must pay me and -a painful, happy blush suffused Brahm's face-Nmy wife a visit sometime. We should be glad to- You married! 'Grump' laughed heartily but Brahm, except for a momentary deepening of the blush, did not feel abashed. In fact, he knew now that 'Grump' was envious and was picturing in his English mind a cosy cottage with an aproned girl and flowers inside-and a drab bache1or's apartment in contrast. Hav-en't heard from her in a month, and I havenlt been able to get a letter through since we've been at the front lines. No chance of getting one through here, I suppose P Brahm asked. There might be, on a special occa- sionf' 'Grump' replied, eyeing the other intently. I inspect every letter that leaves here, though. You m-ean I might, sir, really?l' tGrump' had never seen such a happy dawning light on anyone's face as was on Brahm's. Then that face became suffused with a vivid red Hush. It would be-er-personal and all that- to one's wife, you know, to have a perfect stranger read it, but I never dreamt of ever getting one to her, at least till I was out of here P Well, you write it, and I'll see what I can do. Brahm wrote his letter, and stared into space. He realized it would be the biggest risk of his life, yet he would try it-to be shot as a spy might be a more agreeable form of death than to be blown up by a shell. 'Grump' came in then and Brahm handed him the lett-er, which was THE I-lgramgfn placed in an unsealed envelope. The German stood tense, his hand clenched. Fanshawe turned the letter ov-er, tapped it on his knuckles, and looked at Brahm. His lips found the glued part of the envelope, and it was sealed. It had not been read. Brahm could hardly realize his good luck on such a slim chance. He extended his hand and once more their hands clasped, only now they were enemy against enemy, but fGrump' did not realize it. A court-martial was being h-eld in a silent British post. A dignified old general rose and spoke, Lieutenant Fanshawe is arrested on a charge of deliberate treason. A letter got t-hrough to a German woman with full de-tails of the British position on the western front-from Fanshawe's camp. Much more was said, and when many old soldiers around a rickety table had spoken 'Grump' had decided on his course of action. As they would never believe his story or be made to understand, what was the use? A pathetic sort of smile parted his lips when he was asked what he had to say. He looked from one member of the gathering to the other, until he had observed each one, and answered, Nothing to say. But you realize the consequence of this?'l he was asked. He nodded. Better death than many a war hero has had, it won't take long, he reflected. Supposing he had told the truth-huh! How foolish it would sound! and his cheeks burned as he pictured a group of English oflicers reading a morning paper, and exclaim- ing, Imagine old Crump' growing sentimental over a rotten Boche's story of the little wife and everything. I wonder what the truth is ?

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Y Tn-:E l'IElQIVll2f XXN - oilzing to Say Sergeant Grump Fanshawe was sick of the war-dangerously so. He sat at his desk in the office of the prison camp, barking curt orders to the German prisoners who had just been brought in. His head was bent to one side, leaning on his upheld hand. VVhen interviewing prisoners, his eyes would peer upward as if to see over spectacles Qthought he wore nonei, but his head remained on its perch. He was tired of hearing his questions- Name F and VVhat regi- ment ? -answered in guttural German which he was supposed to understand. The answers were usually short and unwillingly given by white-faced. sunken-eyed frames of men who wrung their hands and twisted their mud-caked caps. Another prisoner was brought in. Name ? My name is Paul Brahmf' came the reply in perfectly intelligible English, from a tall, fair German. Grump's,' head moved. and a most remarkable pair of grey eyes met fearless German blue ones. Speak English, eh? I should like to speak with you later. A smart salute, a click of spurred heels, exit Brahm. Grump was very much impressed-just a kid, only about twenty-three or four-probably a newly-promoted officer who had been nabbed while out on his first raid. Paul Brahm had dinner with Ser- geant Grump Fanshawe. At first the German was morose and silent. He suspected 'Grump'. Probably he would be questioned about German lines, provisions, etc. Well, he determined to be no information bureau. He was surprised by Fan- shawe's first question. Educated at Oxford, you said ? Brahm was immediately on the alert. Even a 'dirty Roche' has the right to an education, hasn't he? The expression on 'Grump's' face never changed, but his feelings were hurt. This clean young chap had seemed as a heaven-sent interruption to his own tedious thoughts. 'Grump' had never been known to condescend to anyone, but he did his best to make the situation less uncomfortable, because something about the German had won his admiration and respect. Didn't mean anything' sarcastic, lfanshawe said, which was the nearest he had come to an apology in a long time, and it had cost him a lot to come out with it. For a few seconds there was a strained silence. In fact, he continued, I thought we might change that particular topic of con- versation and drop the war. Rrahm looked at him and saw that he was in earnest. He smiled, And that year Dighton was captain of the cricket eleven which downed every team in England. Does that suit you F 'Grump' laughed, for the first time in many months, and two gentlemen clasped hands firmly. Righto! They talked of England and Ger- many, the hustle and stuffiness of the big'cities, the quiet of the country lanes. They might have been two old schoolmat-es re-united to talk of old times after a lapse of many years, instead of an Englishman and a

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obj o Nothing to say, he repeated, half to himself. The next Sergeant Fanshawe faced the Bring squad. A soldier stepped forward with a black blindfold. Yes, I think I'll take it. All these movie heroes do look so foolish when they refuse it, don't they, old man? There is a letter on my bed which you might see on its way-of course, read it first-by all means. Now, let's go! morning, be fore sunrise, A young German housewife was puzzled a few weeks later over a note she received. It read: Dear Madam: Your husband is a very remarkable Tl'lE.I'1ElQlXAEf . , . IQ!! young fellow. Remind him thatI realized before I went that 'All's fair in love and war,' but ask him which of us was the fairer, will you? I haven't been able to figure it out. I wish you many years of happiness in the little cottage with your beloved Paul. When he fully explains, I think that I shall have earned a place in your memory, and it is rather nice. when one is leaving the old world, to think that a few people will remember him-Cperhaps with fond recollec- tions?l even when that person's name is such a one as H fflrumpy ' Fanshawef' -Margaret Ryerson, III-F. Dreaming I sit at my western window, As the sun is sinking low, And see the grey old city. Pmathed in a rosy glow. And as I sit there dreaming, I'm wafted far away On a craft, whose name is Seeming, I7 That only my fancies sway. The leagues of lake and wood-land, Become as nothing then, And I'm drifting o'er the prairies, On that sea of golden grain. The prairies slowly fade away, Into foot-hills grand and steep, XVhere the Little Red Deer River Sings to me, wild and sweet. And there my wandering fancies stay, No farther west I'll roam, But rest in that dear, dear country, That mountain valley home. -Caroline Reid, III-E. 50