Don't ask him to show you his war-cross.
Don't ask him if he brought back the helmet of the German, whom the papers say he killed in the shell-hole.
Don't ask him to describe a man's emotions the night before an attack is to be made.
Don't ask him how many Germans he's killed.
Don't ask him if he felt hatred for the enemy.
Don't ask him why he doesn't wear his war-cross.
Don't ask him why he doesn't wear his uniform.
Mrs. Hollister wished with all her heart that Vincent would make it possible for her to omit the last "don't." She was unable not to include among her guests men in uniform—the war was still in full swing—and Vincent's black and white, under the circumstances, would be conspicuous. She ventured to suggest to him that it would please her very much if he felt like appearing in his military regalia for the dinner-party.
His reply had been, "Shall I streak my face with blood too, mother, and put my arm back in a sling?"
Mrs. Hollister wished Vincent wouldn't talk like that. His answer was discouragingly characteristic of him since he had come home. She couldn't understand some of his peculiar atti-
