He is not allowed to add any comments of his own. On this
occasion, however, one indignant gentleman has pencilled the ironical
phrase, "I don't think!" opposite the line which acknowledges the
receipt of a parcel. Bobby lays this aside, to be returned to the
sender.
Then come some French picture post-cards. Most of these present
soldiers--soldiers posing, soldiers exchanging international
handgrips, soldiers grouped round a massive and _decolletee_ lady in
flowing robes, and declaring that _La patrie sera libre!_ Underneath
this last, Private Ogg has written: "Dear Lizzie,--I hope this finds
you well as it leaves me so. I send you a French p.c. The writing
means long live the Queen of France."
The next heap consists of letters in official-looking green envelopes.
These are already sealed up, and the sender has signed the following
attestation, printed on the flap: _I certify on my honour that the
contents of this envelope refer to nothing but private and family
matters._ Setting aside a rather bulky epistle addressed to The Editor
of a popular London weekly, which advertises a circulation of over a
million copies--a singularly unsuitable recipient for correspondence
of a private and family nature--Bobby turns to the third heap, and
sets to work upon his daily task of detecting items of information,
"which if intercepted or published might prove of value to the enemy.
Pages:
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263