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their heads inward, forming a kind of shell. Except for slightly shifting their positions sometimes, the bees forming this shell remain in their places all the winter through. But in the space enclosed by the shell strange things go on, for here there is plenty of room for the other bees of the hive to take exercise.

When they begin to feel the cold, the bees inside the shell begin to stir about very energetically, moving their wings quickly up and down, shaking their little bodies from side to side, and breathing very quickly.

By doing all this they become warmer, and at the same time raise the temperature within their hive, so that the layers of bees making the shell share the added warmth.

Whenever the air inside the hive begins to lose its warmth and seems cold to the bees, although you and I would call it a temperate heat, they set to work in this sensible way to heat themselves and their home. The colder it grows outside the hive, the longer and more briskly do they and closets—all were made of redwood, to work to warm the air inside it. It is

keep the whole effect in tone. There is a really wonderful what a high temperature living-room and a bedroom for the owner, the sagacious little insects can produce. and a bedroom for the chauffeur. Even When it is freezing hard, or the snow is falling thick outside, inside the hive it is almost as hot as on a summer day.

Should any of the bees that form the shell die, their companions remove them, and a living bee creeps into the empty place.

N. Tourneur.

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THE TRAVELING LOG-CABIN

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AN UP-TO-DATE LOG-CABIN Being a gipsy by nature, a certain wellknown singer has not been able to adapt himself to traveling in trains and to the life of modern hotels. Yet his work takes him all over the country, and he must have some means of transportation. Some time ago he struck on the idea of taking his home along with him, and a compact threeroom bungalow, mounted on the chassis of the comfort of a fireplace is included, in a motor-car, was the result of his planning. addition to a serviceable kitchenette.

Brought up among the redwoods of his The fortunate proprietor of this unique native State, California, he chose a section dwelling recently toured the country, singfrom one of these enormous trees and had ing only every other week, so that he could it hollowed out to a four-inch shell. The enjoy the pleasure of traveling under these partitions and built-in features—furniture ideal conditions. L. M. EDHOLM.

THE SNUG INTERIOR

FRONT TO HIS LITTLE SON

By LIEUTENANT-COLONEL FRANK E. EVANS,

OF THE 6TH MARINES

FRANCE, MAY 18, 1918. trenches in red, like funny wriggly little DEAR TOWNIE:

worms, and the German trenches in blue, This is all about the trenches, and the and a big gilt mirror, as big as you, that dugouts, and the poor little towns that the was rescued from a French château betrenches run through, and the No Man's fore the Germans had shot it all to pieces. Land between the American trenches and And you 'd think it was a fine dugout. the bad German trenches, and the rats that Then Daddy would hang a brown English run through the trenches, and the dugouts, mask, like a box, in front, and a little blue and the poor little towns, and No Man's French mask, like a big pocket-book, over Land. And Daddy tried to write you all his left shoulder, and put on his tin hat and about it while the Marines

strap on his revolver. And were up in the trenches; but

then you 'd take off your little he could never find time up

old straw hat and put on a there to write this letter, be

little tin hat, so the bullets cause he had so much to do

would bounce off your head, there that it was all he could

and put on two little masks, to do to find time to write to your

use if the bad Germans shot a pretty mother. And she al

shell full of poison gas near us, ways read them to you, so you

and away we 'd go to see the know more about the trenches,

trenches. We 'd go past a lot anyway, than lots of big boys. THIS IS YOU IN more dugouts like Daddy's, So we'll just pretend you YOUR TIN HAT

and then down a long, beaucame over to France on a tor

tiful path through the finest pedo-boat, and then right up in an woods you ever saw; and all the birds aëroplane to Daddy's dugout, at the would be singing; and

would be singing; and you'd pass a end of a pretty path.

And there you

little shed, and there would be three fat found Daddy in his dugout-a nice big black-and-white puppy-dogs playing and dugout under ground, so you had to climb rolling around in some little bushes, biting down twelve steps. And on top of the each other's ears and stubby little tails; dugout was a roof of big logs, and, on and two big, fat, sleepy bunny rabbits top of them, a ton of white rocks to keep watching them; and you'd look up at the enemy shells out! and on top of the Daddy and laugh and think it was a funny rocks was a net, like a big fish-net, made war. And then, all along the path, you 'd of burlap, with lots of little bunches of see dozens of telephone-wires running tough grass tied on, so that an enemy aëro down in a deep ditch to the trenches, and plane up in the sky would think it was lots of violets and buttercups and daisies. just part of a green field and would n't And pretty soon, in the woods, we'd come drop bombs on Daddy's dugout or fly back to some little trenches and rows of barbed and tell the artillery to shoot on it. And wire, to use if the enemy could drive the in one corner you would see a little stove, Marines out of the real trenches—but you and, in the other, Daddy's bunk, and know they could n't. Then we 'd come to even funny wall-paper on the walls, a funny little railroad, and see some little and a big long table on one side, with flat cars pulled by two little mules carryall Daddy's pictures of you and Mother on ing food down to a place called a dump, it and maps of the trenches, with our so the Marines could come up when it

play village. For there would be a row of little white stone houses built right into a little hill; and lots of Marines would say, “Why there 's our little sergeant who used to carry the colors at the Brooklyn Navy Yard when we marched off the parade ground!" And they'd show you all over and tell you it was battalion headquarters, when the major stayed in the trenches; and they'd take you way down in some deep dugouts, where they go when the enemy is bombarding, and you'd knock your tin hat against some beams, until they lighted a candle. And you 'd hear some

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rug away off.

THIS IS A MARINE THROWING A SHOE

AT A RAT

was dark and get them to the trenches. So we 'd leave the path and follow the little railroad off to the right. And then you'd see some big shell-holes in the ground. And pretty soon we 'd pass a deep ravine, and see a lot of Marines and French soldiers sitting around, smoking and laughing, in front of little dugouts, and sheds, like little barns, with shell-holes through the roof. And they were all there to run to the trenches to help the Marines if they were attacked and the enemy tried to sneak up through the ravine in the dark. So we 'd be getting near the trenches; and Daddy would stop and say, “Listen!" And you 'd listen and hear, away off in front, a low boom! as though it was Nanny beating a

And then you'd hear a queer, whistling sound getting near and nearer until it sounded like some giant up above us tearing a great long piece of silk in his hands. And Daddy would say: “That 's all right; it went away over our heads. Now listen again." And you'd listen and hear the biggest bang. And then another would come, and you would n't hear any bang; and Daddy would say: “That did n't go off. It 's a dud.” So we'd go on, and pretty soon come to a fine, big, white road, like the fine roads in Maryland. And we 'd turn to the left down the road and be going right straight to the trenches. And you 'd think it was the funniest road you ever saw, because you 'd know it was in France, and all you had to do was to follow the road and it would go to the edge of the beautiful woods, and on downhill past the trenches, and through a poor little town with a company of Marines, and on past a lot of barbed wire, and on through No Man's Land across the fields into a little town full of wicked German soldiers, and on through more towns, over bridges, and into German cities. But we'd stop near the edge of the woods and step down into a trench; and at the edge of the woods would be some big screens of burlap and grass hung between poles; and over the trench, as it went downhill, would be mats of it overhead to hide it, and we 'd come right out into what you'd think was a

funny little squeaks, and a big rat would run out, and a Marine would throw a hobnailed shoe at it. And if Dan Daly, the top sergeant of the machine-gun company, was there, he'd tell about the rat that was so big it could n't get in his dugout door; and they 'd show you how the rats eat right through their packs and the straps on them; and how they eat right into the boxes that have hard bread, and eat up the hard bread that every Marine has to carry to eat if there 's a big battle and the mules can't bring up their chow for a day or two. Then you 'd come up into the light, and salute the major, and we 'd go down a real trench a little ways, and go through a door in the side of it into a little dugout. And you 'd see how it opened right in front, a long narrow opening. And Daddy would lift you up, and you 'd look through a big telescope right across the battle-field; and miles and miles away, where the hills met the blue sky, you 'd see cities in Germany. And the major would point the telescope one place, and you 'd see big German barracks; and an

other place, and you 'd see a big factory chine-gun had been. And then you 'd let and a lot of smoke, where the Germans a Marine take the telescope to watch the were making shells; and you 'd see lots of enemy; and you would look through the towns nearer, with the big white road we long narrow slit in front of the dugout and were on running through them; and a big look away north to Verdun and away town near by, with a lake in front of it, south to a big hill called Les Eparges, a and lots of forests and fields that the Ger brown hill with hardly any trees on it and mans took early in the war. Then the all cut up with trenches and shell-holes, major would point the big telescope down, where both the Frenchers and the Gerand closer by there 'd be a town with only mans had fought on it; and you 'd count one or two roofs, red like cherries, left on as many as eleven big German balloons up the houses, and most of the walls down and in the air, like yellow sausages; because, the streets full of heaps of stones and you see, we would be up on a hill and grass; and he'd tell you there was a com could watch them with telescopes, but they

had to get up in balloons to watch us. And maybe you'd see a French aëroplane shooting machine-gun bullets into one of the balloons, and a German would jump out in a parachute and the balloon would

get on fire and go tumbling and twisting THIS IS THE GERMAN CAPTAIN'S FAMILY down like a yellow wash-rag. And then

you 'd peek down to see what No Man's pany of the enemy in it, and that the Ger

Land was like; and you 'd be as much surman captain, an old square-head, with prised as if Santa Claus was out there in spectacles, and a fat, red-nosed German his sleigh. Because you 'd see nice-looking wife and six square-head kids—all mean meadows and fruit orchards and white. little imps—at home, lived in a dugout roads and little lakes and brooks. But under one of the red roofs.

And you 'd there would n't be any fruit on the trees, wonder how soldiers could be living in a just wild orchards; and you'd see long town like that, and yet you could n't see black rows on both sides, and running out any. And while you were looking, the tele into No Man's Land, that were roads of phone would ring; and the major would barbed wire seven rows deep. And No get a message that the artillery were going Man's Land does n't belong to any nato shell the town. And you 'd hear a faint tion in the world, and nobody lives in bark and hear the shell whistle; and you 'd it, and there's nobody in it except at hear a bang and see a big column of dirt night, when the patrols steal out to go and stones shoot up like a fountain, right across and cut the barbed wire and go into in the middle of the town; and it would be the German trenches to carry off prisonall red where the shell had blown a lot And if you could stay till dark, you of bricks into red dust. And then they 'd 'd see the flash of German cannons away come fast, and you 'd see a big hole with off, and then you 'd see rockets burst away the sun shining through the red roof. And up in the sky and then white stars come the major would laugh and say, “Hit 'em floating down to make No Man's Land again!" and five nice "75" shells would as bright as day. And some Marine would burst right in the same place. And pretty hear the enemy cutting our barbed wire; soon the telephone would ring again, and and he 'd shoot a rocket up, and you'd they'd point the telescope to a little hear the machine-guns go "Put! Put! bunch of dots where a German machine Put!and the rifles go Crack! Crack! gun was; and then you 'd see little col Crack!And if the Germans had a umns of black dirt and stone shoot up company out there, the major would shoot -four of them; and when you'd look up a rocket that would break into red again, you 'd see a big hole where the ma stars, and the artillery would see it, and

ers.

all the 75s and the big guns would fire, in the balloons. And pretty soon we 'd and all the German guns; and you'd see come to more trenches that crossed ours, little streaks of fire from the trenches. but we'd follow the French signs and And in about three quarters of an hour the come out into the poor little French town. Germans would be all licked, and they'd And the captain of Marines would show shoot up a red-and-green rocket and start us all around, just as proud of his poor home as soon as their cannons stopped ; little town as if it were Paris. And the and they'd carry off their dead and houses would be full of holes where the wounded, and all would be dark and quiet. German shells had hit them, and grass And in the morning the Marines would would be growing in the streets. And find some dead Germans hanging in the there would be the road, with big shellwires, and hundreds of sharp knives and holes in it, and rocks, and lots of barbed bombs. But the Germans never could wire fixed on long steel fences that the get into the Marines' trenches. But you Marines would run across the street if the could n't stay till dark; so Daddy would Germans came in. And you 'd see Matake your hand, and you 'd salute the ma rines smoking and reading under the poor jor, and we 'd get into a deep trench and little trees or with their backs to the walls, start downhill to a little town with a and shaving, and cleaning the mud off pretty name. And the trench would twist their shoes. And lots would be sleeping, and turn like a snake, and we 'd walk on down in dugouts like cellars under the a little board-walk of slats, that they call houses. And in the streets there 'd be a duck-boards (but, Daddy does n't know lot of rusty old German shells that had n't why, because he never saw any ducks there exploded. And the captain would take or even any nice little chickens), and the us into a big dugout under a big house, trench would have sign-boards; and some with the walls all covered over with colplaces there would n't be any duck-boards, ored pictures of pretty French ladies, and .but just mud. And we 'd turn a sharp tell us all about how the big shells come

into town and everybody laughs and shouts and races each other into the dugouts until the shells stop. And there are four other poor little towns like it. The littlest one is half a mile out beyond the trenches; and in a battle most of the fighting would be in the little towns. And then you'd

get tired and awful homesick for your THIS IS YOU AND DADDY

pretty little Mother, just as Daddy does; IN THE MUD

and your little lip would tremble, and the

captain would say, "Poor little fellow !" corner, and there 'd be a square place cut and kiss you good-by. And a big Marine out, with sand-bags in front, and a Ma would take you pickaback, and away we'd rine sentry, with his rifle resting on the go up the hill to your aëroplane; and all sand-bags and his cartridges in a neat little the officers would come out and fill a bag row, watching the enemy. And near by full of German buttons and bullets and would be a dugout and other Marines belt-buckles. And you 'd salute Colonel sleeping, because at night more of them Catlin, and put your little arms awful have to watch and be ready to fight. And tight around Daddy's neck and kiss him lots of places there 'd be wire, the same good-by and sail away. kind they keep chickens shut in with, up With lots and heaps of love to you and against the walls of the trench to keep pretty Mother, and be just as good to her the dirt from falling in. And overhead as Uncle Sam is to all the Marines who there 'd be branches of trees, or wire net are far away fighting in France. ting with burlap, to fool the Germans up

YOUR DADDY PAT.

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