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France at War

 
dc.contributor Oxford Text Archive
dc.contributor.author Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936
dc.date.accessioned 2018-06-14
dc.date.accessioned 2019-07-04T10:34:53Z
dc.date.available 2019-07-04T10:34:53Z
dc.date.created 1915
dc.identifier ota:3273
dc.identifier.citation http://purl.ox.ac.uk/ota/3273
dc.identifier.uri http://hdl.handle.net/20.500.12024/3273
dc.description.abstract Resource deposited with the Oxford Text Archive.
dc.format.medium Digital bitstream
dc.format.mimetype text/xml
dc.language English
dc.language.iso eng
dc.publisher University of Oxford
dc.relation.ispartof Oxford Text Archive Core Collection
dc.relation.hasversion http://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/k/kipling/rudyard/france/
dc.rights Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License
dc.rights.uri http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/
dc.rights.label PUB
dc.title France at War
dc.type Text
has.files yes
branding Oxford Text Archive
files.size 637464
files.count 5
otaterms.date.range 1900-1999

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I “IT’S a pretty park,” said the French artillery officer. “We’ve done a lot for it since the owner left. I hope he’ll appreciate it when he comes back.” The car traversed a winding drive through woods, between banks embellished with little chalets of a rustic nature. At first, the chalets stood their full height above ground, suggesting tea-gardens in England. Further on they sank into the earth till, at the top of the ascent, only their solid brown roofs showed. Torn branches drooping across the driveway, with here and there a scorched patch of undergrowth, explained the reason of their modesty. The château that commanded these glories of forest and park sat boldly on a terrace. There was nothing wrong with it except, if one looked closely, a few scratches or dints on its white stone walls, or a neatly drilled hole under a flight of steps. One such hole ended in an unexploded shell. “Yes,” said the officer. “They arrive here occasionally.” Something bellowed across the folds of the w . . .
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