IN THE SMOKING ROOM 159 



him whispered gently that she could well under- 

 stand his being touched by such beautiful prayers, 

 but could he, please, try and keep silence ? If 

 so, she would present him with a new pair of 

 boots. The man responded : " Thank you, 

 mum, I will try ; I will indeed ! " He strove 

 valiantly. You could imagine him holding him- 

 self back, straining at the leash like a greyhound. 

 At last something was said which touched the 

 man's heart particularly. It was too much. Arms 

 uplifted, up he jumped triumphantly, exclaiming 

 with a voice that penetrated through the whole 

 building : " Boots or no boots Praise the Lord ! 

 Hallelujah ! " 



Another story belongs to war time at Charing 

 Cross underground station : a lad was to be seen 

 who was somewhat vague as to his surroundings ; he 

 had celebrated at least one birthday too many. A 

 sympathetic passer-by in mufti spoke to him and 

 inquired where his camp lay. The lad managed 

 to tell him, and the man went off to ascertain 

 the platform and the time of the train. He then 

 hurried back to the khaki lad, who still looked 

 very helpless. " Come along, my lad," said he 

 cheerily, " we have to go to No. - - platform, the 

 train will soon be in ! " At the bottom of the 

 stairs the friend in need met a porter, to whom he 

 briefly explained matters. The porter, good 

 fellow, understood, and said : " Leave him to me, 

 sir, I'll see him in the train all right ; why, here's 

 his very train just coming in, and it will put him 

 down just by his camp ! Come along, my lad, 



