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Show DUNKIRK TRANQUIL DESPITE BOMBING OF GERMAN AEROPLANES People Rush to Dugouts When Monster Siren Sounds Warning of Approach of Hun Planes. "THE FIGHTING FLEETS." By RALPH D. PAINE. (Copyright, 191S, by Balpb. D. Paine.) (By special arrangement with Houghton Mifflin Co.) INSTALMENT NO. 22. Eefuge in tlia Cellars. YOU will find streets that are neat and clean, the fronts of buildings washed, show windows win-dows well decorated, shops with many customers. You will meet people walking, tranquilly to their business, the men with their heads buried in the newspapers, the women returning from market, their hands laden with baskets. In particular par-ticular you will be forced to admire the groups of children with book bags under their arms who walk wisely to school with rather serious looks on their faces. They are neatly dressed, in good health. "Let us confess it! The life we have led for forty months has been trying. The copious and almost daily showers of shells they are a serious interference- Those who were not able to withstand the first bombardments left the city. Most of them failed to return. re-turn. They numbered thousands. It was better to have them go. The others are resolved that they will not desert their city. They consider themselves like soldiers under fire. Indeed, thev would no longer regard themselves as Frenchmen and citizens citi-zens of Dunkirk if they should de- ' part. Mv own feelings? I will admit ad-mit it without shame. As a choice of position, there was less of the sense of uneasiness in the trenches before Verdun." Wail of Siren Warns Citizens. The wail of a steam sir.en interrupted. inter-rupted. It was imploring, insistent. Almost instantly it was echoed by the whistles of the war vessels In the harbor har-bor A gun spoke, then another the sharp voices of anti-aircraft rifles firing shrapnel. "It is time to imitate the moles.' said the naval lieutenant, with a shrug. "Let us go below decks." He moved to the street door and opened it for a moment. There was no stir in the darkened city. Two or tnree searchlights were sweeping the skv with penciled beams of white radiance. The guns In the suburbs nearest the German lines were furiously furi-ously busy. The landlord stumped over to the row of candlesticks on the mantel and gave one to each of the company, striking the matches with a steady hand. This duty dispatched, he went to find his wife and babies. The procession pro-cession filed down a narrow stairway Into a low-roofed cellar, which wag swept and clean, with chairs and table of plank. There were also cots for the drowsv little ones. These came toddling down, three of them, in their nightdresses, rubbing their eyes, but with no signs of surprise. It had happened hap-pened so often, explained the pretty mother, that the dear lambs thought that all small children divided their slumber hours between bedroom and cellar. Even in this refuge it was possible to hear the wicked, buzzing noise of the boche airplane engines as they swooped and hovered high overhead. Then came a prolonged, peculiar, whizzing sound the fall of a bomb through ten thousand feet of space. It struck and exploded, seemingly in the direction of the docks a crashing crash-ing roar and a concussion which was felt in the cellar, It occurred to me to hope that the British commodore had legged It downstairs in time. Another bomb was dropped, falling somewhere closer to the Square of Jean Bart. Then there came to our ears a different sound musical, full-throated, full-throated, uplifting the song of great hells. It was no jangled alarum. The bells were attuned and chiming. They rang out a melody, a chant brave and martial, which wan fiung from the high belfrv tower far and wide over the tormented city. They were vibrant with the spirit of Dunkirk. They were magnificently defiant. Down in the cellar one voice after another began to sing the refrain, in unison with the bells. The portly merchant raised his head and rumbled a basso, while the lieutenant carried the tenor. The landlord was beating time with his crutch. The children, sitting up in their cots, piped up In tones sweet and shrill. The great bells were quiet for a moment before swinging into the chorus again, and during the lull the landlord's wife explained, with shining shin-ing eyes: Bombard Belfry to Silence Songs. "They are singing in many cellars cel-lars A'.wavs it is done. And always in the belfry, when the boches come to bombard, the chimes play the Hvmn of Jean Bart.' " "An old song a song which Dunkirk Dun-kirk loves." cried the naval officer. "This is whv the boches try so hard to bomb the belfry to silence the Hvmn of Jean Bart.' " Now It was ringing out again me.-low, me.-low, throbbing waves of sound the battle hvmn of a free people, evoking evok-ing from the dust of centuries the traditions and memories of a seaport sea-port unafraid. Out there in the square old Jean Bart himself was listening, the bronze figure in the great hat the wrinkled sea boots, the-cutlass the-cutlass in his flu. This Is the chorus which the bells of Liunklrk were sing-Ins sing-Ins to him: "Jean Bart, salut! Sslut a t. memolre! Tes tes exploits tu remplis 1 unlven; Ton seul aspect comnianduit la Victoria. Ft sans rival, tu rosnes ur les mers; Jusnu 'nu tombeau, France, mere adoree. Jaloux et fiers d'imiter aa valeur. Nous defendrons ta banniere sacree Sur 1'ocean qui fut son champ d hon- neur. , ... Sur I ocean qui fut son champ d hon- neurl" ' |