The resemblance was instant, but this was an older man
than at first sight he seemed to be. I asked him to dinner at Morley's,
my place of resort for a length of time beyond the memory
of all but the oldest servants. He had already dined
but he came and sat with me, and told me marvellous things.

David McCrae had raised, and trained, a field battery in Guelph,
and brought it overseas. He was at the time upwards of seventy years of age,
and was considered on account of years alone "unfit" to proceed to the front.
For many years he had commanded a field battery in the Canadian militia,
went on manoeuvres with his "cannons", and fired round shot.
When the time came for using shells he bored the fuse with a gimlet;
and if the gimlet were lost in the grass, the gun was out of action
until the useful tool could be found. This "cannon ball"
would travel over the country according to the obstacles it encountered and,
"if it struck a man, it might break his leg."

In such a martial atmosphere the boy was brought up,
and he was early nourished with the history of the Highland regiments.
Also from his father he inherited, or had instilled into him,
a love of the out of doors, a knowledge of trees, and plants,
a sympathy with birds and beasts, domestic and wild.
When the South African war broke out a contingent was dispatched from Canada,
but it was so small that few of those desiring to go could find a place.
This explains the genesis of the following letter:


==
I see by to-night's bulletin that there is to be no second contingent.