'Specially seeing we can't do otherwise." It was time for slumber.

The shed gaped open in front and at the sides, but the air was not cold.
"We've done with the bad days," said Remus; "shan't see them no more." "At last!" said Margat.
We stretched ourselves out, elbow to elbow.

The one in the dark corner blew out his candle.
"May the war look slippy and get finished!" mumbled Orango.
"If only they'll let me transfer to the cyclists," Margat replied.
We said no more, each forming that same great wandering prayer and some little prayer like Margat's.

Gently we wrapped ourselves up on the straw, one with the falling night, and closed our eyes.
* * * * * * At the bottom of the village, in the long pink farmhouse, there was a charming woman, who smiled at us with twinkling eyes.

As the days emerged from the rains and fogs, I looked at her with all my soul, for she was bathed in the youth of the year.