"Her Napoleon and her Foch!"

"Her women and her men!"

"Vive la France!"

"Vive la France!"

HENRY JONES of Windfall, Georgia, had come to France to obtain material for a cook book. Windfall folk had not appreciated his cornpone-and-potlikker, so he had come to France to obtain material for a cook book. But there was a certain Mme. Gauthier who claimed that he had taken her husband's overcoat in a restaurant. Quite willing to prove that there must be a mistake, Henry Jones started to accompany Mme. Gauthier to the restaurant in order that he might assure her that he had not been in the establishment when her husband had lost his coat. A typical hot-headed Parisian woman, Mme, Gauthier babbled about Verdun, la France, the debt. A mob swarmed about Mr. Jones shouting: "Vive la France! A bas les etrangers!" Before Henrey Jones could devise a plan to escape the husterical crowd, he found himself accuses of being a spy and hustled off to jail by patriotic gendarmes.

Henry Jones is in jail. The newspapers have publicized the incident. Startling revelations pour into editors' desks revealing how Jones has been connected with Moscow for a long time. Communists and Royalists stage riots. A "femme fatale," thus does Mme. Lanerre call herself, visits Jones frequently and commiserates his position. To the authorities Jones appears "with the true story of the coat, but it is not a question of a coat, it is the honor of France.

The preceding brief outline tells very little of Hillel Bernstein's delightful novel; in fact, it merely relates a few of the incidents leading up to Henry Jones' real adventures. And it would be superfluous to tell much more of the plot, for it seems to me that the essential value in L'Affaire Jones is derived from the amusing twists in fortune which Mr. Bernstein has devised for his puppets.

L'Affaire Jones is generously interspersed with French phrases, but they are so simple that one can not be annoyed with the author, one case excepted, when he alludes to the famous five letter word of Cambronne; but since the word evokes much laughter from the insanely practical Frenchmen, one may strike on the solution of this little mystery without resorting to an encyclopedia by wondering what would shock a staid Anglo Saxon. Hillel Bernstein writes simple prose, gently mocking everything in France by la France, and not forgetting to take a poke at some of our noble customs and institutions such as the "Busters" which vaguely resembles the American Legion, or the Gold Star Legation. Bernstein's satire will surely amuse you, provided that you are not a "Buster."