Two or three weeks afterwards, when she was running for the holes, one morning, through a shell-shower, a big shell burst near her, and covered her all over with dirt, and a piece of the iron carried away her game-bag of false hair from the back of her head.

Well, she stopped to get that game-bag before she shoved along again! Was getting used to things already, you see.

We all got so that we could tell a good deal about shells; and after that we didn't always go under shelter if it was a light shower.

Us men would loaf around and talk; and a man would say, 'There she goes!' and name the kind of shell it was from the sound of it, and go on talking--if there wasn't any danger from it.

If a shell was bursting close over us, we stopped talking and stood still;--uncomfortable, yes, but it wasn't safe to move.