saying nothing about himself. When Katavasov asked him what had impelled him to go to Servia, he answered modestly:

“Oh, well, everyone’s going. The Servians want help, too. I’m sorry for them.”

“Yes, you artillerymen especially are scarce there,” said Katavasov.

“Oh, I wasn’t long in the artillery, maybe they’ll put me into the infantry or the cavalry.”

“Into the infantry when they need artillery more than anything?” said Katavasov, fancying from the artilleryman’s apparent age that he must have reached a fairly high grade.

“I wasn’t long in the artillery; I’m a cadet retired,” he