The performing mules this morning almost came up to yesterday’s standard. One big horse, after breaking loose and galloping joyously about, conceived a notion to roll in a slushy pool, completely plastering one side of his whole body and face with greenish mud, so that when he turned he gave the impression of being a lightening change artist. And in the field beyond us the old Belgian peasant plodded behind his antidiluvian one-horse plough, oblivious of war and of warriors.
Walk March 