Connecticut western news., 1915-09-23
Guns Result of Collaboration.

mentS.
 Guns Result of Collaboration.
 That. of course, k all Shakespeare ever got out of the alphabet. French artiilerymen make their own guns. as he made his plays. 1t is just as simple as that.
 "There is nothing going on for n mo. ment," said the commandant. Tt k too misty. 1 fancy that the boches. being of all things methodical, intro duce the amateurs to the batteries in the intervals. At least there are hours. healthy and unhealthy, which vary with each position. But" the com. mandant reflected, there. let Us say, + a place and distance"
 He gave q range. The gun servelS stood back with the bored contempt Ol the professional for the layman who intrudes on his mysteries. Other civil ians had come that way before, had seen and grinned and complimented and gone their way leaving the gun. ner high up on the back of the bleak hillside to grill or mildew or freeze for weeks and months.
 Then she spoke. Her voice was high CT pitched, it seemed, than ours, with a more shrewish tang to the speeding shell. Her recoil was as swift and a. graceful as the shrug of French mans shoulders. The empty case leap ed forth and changed against the trail. the tops of two or three pines fifty yards away nodded knowingly to each other, though there was no wind.
 They'll be bothered down below to know the meaning of our single shot We don't give them one dose at time as q rule.'
 Somebody laughed. We waited in the fragrant silence. Nothing came back from the mist over that clogged lower ground, though no shell of this war was ever launched with more earnest prayers that it may do harm.
 French Psychology Changed.
 They talked about the lives of guns, what number of rounds some will stand and others will not, how one can make two good guns out of three spoiled ones and what crazy luck some times goes with a single shot or blind salvo. X shell must fall somewhere and by the law of averages occasional ly alights as straight as a homing pi- geon on the one spot where it can wreck the most. Then the earth opens for yards around and men must be dug out, some, merely breathless, who shake their ears and carry on, and oth- CTS whose souls have gone loose among the terrors. These have to be dealt with as their psychology demands, and a French officer is a good psychologist. One of them said:
 "Our national psychology has changed. l do not recognize it my self. What made the change? The boche. If he had been quiet for an other twenty years the world must have been as rotten as his. But it is all his now. He is saving the world. How? Because he has shown us what evil is. We, you and l, England and civilization, had begun to doubt the eX- istence of evil. The boche is say ing us"
 Then we had another look at the un- imal in its trench, little nearer this time than before and quieter on ac- count of the mist having picked up.
 Anywhere you please you shall find the same observation post, table, map, observer and telephonist. It is always hidden, the guns are always ready, and the same smeared wisp of trenches is smoking and flaring from Switzerland to the sea. The handling of the war varies with the nature of the country, but the tools are unaltered. One looks upon them at last with the same weari- ness of wonder that the eye receives from an endless repetition of Egyptian hieroglyphics.