* * * * The last War, in such a
setting, seems as distant as Agin- court. Even the men are of different build. The " concrete boys," as they call themselves, bear but slight resemblance to their fathers. In contrast to the unshaven, dogged, stocky, red-fisted poilu of 1915 they seem, in their white linen overalls, to be art-students or assistants in some laboratory. With long white fingers do they manipulate their dials or adjust their ear-pieces. Their pride in their machines, in their own technical skill, is most engaging. " Please look at this, Sir," they said to us. " Please come to this corner over here." It was a relief, I suppose, from their troglodyte existence, to be visited by anything so comic as nine British M.P.s. They did not conceal their amusement ; they grinned at us happily ; they replied with quick intelligence to all our questions. They were clearly glad that we had come.
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