One was beaky-nosed, hatchet-headed, bearded; the other was broad-faced and shaggily mustached.

One had been famed for his accessibility; the other for his inaccessibility.
So, because of these acutely dissimilar things, I marveled to myself that day in London why, when I looked at Kitchener, I should think of Von Heeringen.

In another minute, though, I knew why: Both men radiated the same quality of masterfulness; both of them physically typified competency; both of them looked on the world with the eyes of men who are born to have power and to hold dominion over lesser men.

Put either of these two in the rags of a beggar or the motley of a Pantaloon, and at a glance you would know him for a leader.

Considering that we were supposed to be at the front on this evening at Laon, the food was good, there being a soup, and the invariable veal on which a German buttresses the solid foundations of his dinner, a salad and fruit, red wine and white wine and brandy.