That night, when all the boys had gone, we got into a corner and we knelt
down, and when he went he said, “I’ve got it, sir. I’ve got the little
song—_and it’s singing_.”

* * * * *

At one of my meetings the boys were four thousand strong and the
Commandant of the camp was to preside. As they say in the Army, he had got
the wind up. He did not know me. When he saw the crowd there he began to
wonder what was going to happen. He called one of the officers to him, and
said,

“I don’t know what he’s going to do. I hope he’s not going to give us a
revival meeting or something of that sort. I hope he knows that one-third
of these fellows are Roman Catholics.”

Well, of course I knew, and I was laying my plans accordingly. What right
have you or I when we have got a mixed crowd like that to try to cram our
preconceived programme down everybody’s throat? The officer, who was one
of my friends, said to the Colonel, “I don’t think you need trouble, sir.
He’s all right, and knows his job.”

When we were ready, I went to the Colonel, and said, “We are quite ready
to begin, sir.”

The Colonel rose and announced, “Officers, non-commissioned officers, and
men, I now introduce to you Gipsy Smith, who will perform.”

Now, the first thing I wanted to do was to disarm all prejudice in the
mind of both officers and men. So I said, “Are you ready, boys?”