he announced.

I tore open the sheet and read of the great attack Of 31 July
which was spoiled by the weather. 'My God!' I cried. 'They've got
St Julien and that dirty Frezenberg ridge ... and Hooge ... and
Sanctuary Wood. I know every inch of the damned place. ...'

'Mr Brand,' said a warning voice, 'that'll never do. If our
friends last night heard ye talk like that ye might as well tak the train
back to London ... They're speakin' about ye in the yards this morning.
ye'll get a good turnout at your meeting the night, but they're
SaYin' that the polis will interfere. That mightna be a bad thing, but
I trust ye to show discretion, for ye'll not be muckle use to onybody
if they jyle ye in Duke Street. I hear Gresson will be there with a
fraternal message from his lunatics in America ... I've arranged
that ye go down to Tam Norie this afternoon and give him a hand
with his bit paper. Tam will tell ye the whole clash o' the West
country, and I look to ye to keep him off the drink. He's aye
arguin' that writin' and drinkin' gang thegither, and quotin' Robert
Burns, but the creature has a wife and five bairns dependin' on him.'

I spent a fantastic day. For two hours I sat in Norie's dirty den,
while he smoked and orated, and, when he remembered his business,
took down in shorthand my impressions of the Labour situation in
South Africa for his rag. They were fine breezy impressions, based
on the most whole-hearted ignorance, and if they ever reached the
Rand I wonder what my friends there made of Cornelius Brand,
their author. I stood him dinner in an indifferent eating-house in a
street off the Broomielaw, and thereafter had a drink with him in a
public-house, and was introduced to some of his less reputable friends.