The spectator., 1919-03-21

to what they have done for the Christ. mas feed which is to be held tomor' row at eight bells. Tank, let's heal yours."
 I reported one dozen eggs, two bot. ties of white wine, one bottle of red wine, eight packets of Gold Flake flags" (cigarettes), and one quart bottle of champagne, which had cost l me five francs at French estaminet This report was received with a cheer. 'Ikey" Honney was next in crder. He proudly stated that he had saved his rum issue for the last eleven days, and consequently was able to donate to the feast his water bottle three-fourths full of rum. This would help out in making brandy sauce for the plum pudding. Sailor Bill in- formed that he had a fruit cake, a bottle of pickled walnuts, and two tins of deviled ham which had been sent out to him from London. Each man had something to report. I care fully made a list of the articles op- posite the name of the person donat- ing them, and turned the list over to Bill. who was to act as cook on the following day.
 Just then Lance Corporal Hall came into the dugout. and warming his hands over the fire bucket, said:
 'If you blokes want to hear some thing that will take you home to BHghty, come up into the fire trench q minute"
 None of us moved That fire buck ct was too comfortable. After much coaxing Sailor Bill. Ikey Honney and myself followed Hall out of the dug out and up into the fire trench. A dead silence reigned, and we started to return. Hall Blocked our way, and whispSed:
 Just minute, boys. and listen"
 Pretty soon, from the darkness out in front. we heard the strains of a German cornet playing It's a Long, Long Trail We're Winding" We stood entranced till the last note died out. After about four or tivemn- ute wait the strains of '"Fhe Suwanee River" were waited across No Mans Land toward us. 1 felt lonely and homosick.
 Out of the darkness from the fire bay on our left q Welsh voice started singing It's Long. Long Trail" It was beautiful. The German cornet player must have heard it, because he picked up the tune and accompanied the singer on his cornet. I had never heard anything so beautiful in my life before. The music from the German trench suddenly ceased. and in the air overhead came the sharp crack crack! of machine gun bullets. as some Roche gunner butted in on the concert. We tucked and returned to our dugout.
 The men were all tired out, and soon raspinS snores could be heard from under the cover of blankets and overcoatS.
 The next day was Christmas, and we eagerly awaited the mail, which was to be brought up by the ration party at noon.
 Not q shot or shell had been fired all morning. The sun had come out and. although the trenches were slip pery with mud, still it was warm, and we felt the Christmas spirit running through our veins. We all turned in and cleaned up the dugout Making reilectorS out of ammunition tins, sticking them into the walls of the dugout. we placed lighted candle on each, the rays from which turned night into day.
 Bill was hustling about preparing the Christmas spread. He placed a waterproof sheet on the floor, and add ing three blankets he spread another waterproof sheet over the top for table cloth, and arranged the mems packs around the edges for chairs.
 Presently the welcome voice of our sergeant came from the entrance of the dugout:
 "Come on, me lads, lend a hand with the mail"
 There was n mad rush for the en- trance. In a couple of minutes or so the boys returned, staggering under a load of parcels. As each name was read off. parcel would be thrown over to the expectant Tommy. My heart was beating with eagerness as