Excerpt from French Windows During those early pictures it was hard to tell whether the toothed sky-line, in the breath less hot dusk, were a row of corn-stooks (like an endless war-train arrested by some block far ahead and incomprehensible to miles of waggons and men), or really a war-train like corn-stooks. Often, in the early light, when dawn was re arranging pictures out of the solid ink of night, even the near fields would seem covered with monstrous parades of hideous titanic snails, each corn-stook standing for a shell, the long, level Shadows for the ugly creeping body. The first pictures of all had welcome for title: even the Havre streets had that name at every corner of them, the Havre people had it in their eyes, and every smiling lip expressed it to the English soldier who could understand, then, no other word of French: Welcome, good Englishman come to help our France at her need. We had done nothing yet, but we had come, against all the expectation of the Imperial calculator who had thought, 'england will never go. Secure in her selfish island she will sit at home and bask in her safety like a purring cat that cares for no outward storm while her own place is warm by the hearth. England has nought to gain, and her friend's loss will never cut her. About the Publisher Forgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.com This book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.