stuff they were made.

When one of the first troop trains left Winnipeg, a handsome young
giant belonging to the Seventy-ninth Highlanders said, as he swung
himself up on the rear coach, "The only thing I am afraid of is that
it will all be over before we get there." He was needlessly alarmed,
poor lad! He was in time for everything; Festubert, Saint-Éloi, Ypres;
for the gas attacks before the days of gas-masks, for trench-fever,
for the D.C.M.; and now, with but one leg, and blind, he is one of the
happy warriors at St. Dunstan's whose cheerfulness puts to shame those
of us who are whole!

There were strange scenes at the station when those first trains went
out. The Canadians went out with a flourish, with cheers, with songs,
with rousing music from the bands. The serious men were the French and
Belgian reservists, who, silently, carrying their bundles, passed
through our city, with grim, determined faces. They knew, and our boys
did not know, to what they were going. That is what made the
difference in their manner.

The government of one of the provinces, in the early days of the war,
shut down the public works, and, strange to say, left the bars open.
Their impulse was right--but they shut down the wrong thing; it should
have been the bars, of course. They knew something should be shut
down. We are not blaming them; it was a panicky time. People often,
when they hear the honk of an automobile horn, jump back instead of
forward. And it all came right in time.

A moratorium was declared at once, which for the time being relieved
people of their debts, for there was a strong feeling that the cup of