asked. 'No, Sir. The parcel's not been opened. It simply means that I
shall lose a leg to-day,' he added. He wasn't panicked at all. But, as
to reassuring him, I might as well have argued with a tank.

"We'd had a very quiet time, but that evening the Hun put over a pretty
stiff bombardment. We stood to, but we all thought it was only a little
extra evening hate, except Private Parks. He kept saying, 'They're
coming across,' till we told him not to get the wind up. But he hadn't
got the wind up. Only he knew they were coming.

"And they did come. Just after it was dark they made a biggish raid and
got into our front trench a little to our right. We started bombing
inwards, but the slope of the ground was awkward, and they seemed to be
having the best of the fun.

"Then Parks jumped up on to the parapet with a pail of bombs and ran
along. He fairly got among them, and by the time he was hit in the right
leg they were mostly casualties or prisoners. I saw him on the stretcher
going back. He was in some pain, but he smiled, and said, 'One stocking
will be enough now, Sir.'"

"Very extraordinary," I began, but James stopped me.

"I haven't finished," he said. "When about three months later I went
down to Southmouth Convalescent Camp, almost the first man I saw was
Private Parks. He was still on crutches, but _he had two legs_. I
greeted him, and then I couldn't resist saying, 'What about the
stocking?'

"'I'll tell you, Sir,' he said. 'For a week after I was wounded it was a