just as he went up over
the trench parapet-took him full in his
bare and muscular throat.
It was hard-
ly bigger than one of those rubber erasers
tinned to the ends of lead pencils.
the driving power of high energy powder
behind its steel-jacketed nose, it was an al-
together competent and devilishly capable
agent of destruction. He lay quite still, a
of the trench,
where his rush had carried him.
The morning drew toward noon.
With night came the b
First it was thirst, then fever, then delirium.
Always his spilling wound
burned and throbbed.
it, with the rain
beating down upon him, it glowed like a kiln.
By the third day his agony spoke in
found him and trundled him away, down through the line of Red Cross units, from dressing station
ris. He was French, but he was fighting our fight.
He was French, but a few months from r
There are bullets enough for all.
He may bea boy you know, perhaps a neigh[
Will you help him, when our fight has broken him, to fight his?
Will you help I
and vivid force are spent and shattered, to retrieve what he may?
Join the American Red Cross.
It is his
It is his hope.
Join the Local Chapter--it has
of the membership
or ten dollar
lar one if you can.
Do your part.
cannot go, you can give.
Those going are
giving immeasurably more.
Space Contributed by
J. KARL MALCOLM, The Tailor
in interest of the Red ,Cross