Samédou looked, and a heavenly relief chased the tension from his face. "Y a bon," he said happily. "Toi, bon camarade!"
When his wounds began to be less painful the problem was how to keep the Sidi in bed. No one cared to be very severe with him, so the staff resorted to the usual weak method of confiscating all his clothes save a shirt, and hoping for the best. But one day the English nurse, going unexpectedly into a distant ward, came upon Samédou Kieta, simply dressed in a single shirt and a bandage, visiting the freshly-arrived wounded and scattering wide grins around him. At her horrified exclamation he began to shrivel away towards the door, ushering himself out with the propitiatory words, "Good morning. Good night. T'ank you. Water!" A most effectual method of disarming reproof.
Poor Samédou has since passed on to another hospital for electric treatment, but the staff still treasures his first and only letter:—
"Moi, Samédou Kieta, arrivé à l'autre hôpital. Y a bon. Mais moi, Samédou Kieta, toi pas oublié. Merci, Monsieur le Major deux galons. Merci, Soeur Antoinette. Merci, Madame l'Anglaise. Y a bon. Y a bon. Y a bon."
"The Germans have suffered 100,000 casualties in 10 days on the western front, and their losses will increase rapidly. They must shorten their lives wherever possible in order to save men."—Ceylon Morning Leader.
In this laudable endeavour they may count upon receiving the hearty assistance of the Allies.
"Young gentleman (21), good family, strong, healthy, public school, O.T.C., Varsity education, speaks English, French, Spanish perfectly, engineering training, efficient car driver and mechanic, horseman, is open to any sporting job connected with war; willing undertake any risks; no salary, but expenses paid."
If the advertiser will apply to the nearest recruiting-station he will hear of something that will just suit him.