The herald. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1905-1953, 1919-04-03

satisfying fritto misto, and then large
platters, burdened with pasta redo
lent with an herb savored sauce
There was plenty of honest wine to
wash down the huge slashes Of war
bread served out generously to all
of us.
No Bitterness In War Talk.
After the pleasant business of eating
was over the men started talking about
the war. 1t was a simple, rather OBJ
jective discussion, without bitterness
or hatred, of something unpleasant
which had to be done, but all must
wish that ii should be ended and laid
aside as soon as possible. Then the
| conversation waxed warm In the more
| direct and personal realities of the
years corps, and the promise for the
coming seasons. One by one the,
little children snuggled closer to theiI
mothers sides and childish heads
| bent sleepily over the table or fell.
relaxed and safe, on arms soft and
| solicitous with maternal care. The
drowsiness of hard days labor crept
irresistibly upon the men, urgind
them to well-earned and refreshing
sheep.
We said good night and start
ed homeward; the little Oil lamp bI
the door had flickered out, but faint
moonlight was bathing the landscape
in a soft, mystical indistinctnesS ia,
away the domes and towers Of Flor
ence rose skyward like dream sym
bols of hopes and darings, of love and
faith.
sat in contemplation, watching the
moonlight wax stronger and brighter
making more real and definite the pic
ture of peace on earth spread so won
drously before me, till my thoughts
wandered away to another harvest
scene, far removed among sterner but
no less peace loving mountains, har
vest scene Of battle wherein men like
those with whom l had gathered
grapes today were the protagonists.
We have been told Of the thrill Of 9
gallant assault and the stirring emo
lions Of a brave defense, but what OF
the harvest after the decisive fighting
Is over and one walks over the fields
plowed by the merciless artillery and
narrowed by the struggles and the suf'
ferings Of men. What of the fruitage
Of battle, not alone Of the dead and
the wounded we have been told 50
often, but Of all the other and indie.
scribably sad things which the eye
and the heart of the harvest gathers
| Amidst Scenes OF Dissolution.
Look! A once flourishing little
town, with not a single one Of Its
houses unscathed, and most Of then
horribly rent asunder, showing the
debris Of what had once been the
privacy and the sanctity Of peaceful
hearths. In the partial shelter OF
these shells Of homes along the mair
streets Of the town, countless men are
sitting or crouching, In full fighting
equipment, waiting for orders to pro
coed to the front trenches, where Z
battle has just been fought and won
Let us walk to the battlefield; 1t II
reached through a pine wood stfl
tsmoking resinousiy from the fire.
which the bursting shells have started
! The road is wholly exposed to thu
range Of the enemy's artillery. bu
thousands Of men have ganantll
crossed it in order to reach their com
trades in the trenches beyond. You
can see what the harvest has beer
: here! There are fragments Of shrap
mel and unexploded shells along ever!
: foot Of the line; by the whir OF tn
projectiies still passing over GU
! heads we can reconstruct the scene o
, fire Of some hours ago ; the shells whiz
, by US with that horrible suggestive
! krotatory sound which seems to say
Coming, Coming, Bang-and you die