want to know!"

The rest of us smoked in wrathful silence, until one of the boys
demonstrated to the Boer War veteran that he knew, at least, how to use
his fists. There was some bloodshed, followed by reluctant apologies on
the part of the Boer warrior. It was one of innumerable differences of
opinion which I witnessed during the months that followed. And most of
them were settled in the same decisive way.

Although mine was a London regiment, we had men in the ranks from all
parts of the United Kingdom. There were North-Countrymen, a few Welsh,
Scotch, and Irish, men from the Midlands and from the south of England.
But for the most part we were Cockneys, born within the sound of Bow
Bells. I had planned to follow the friendly advice of the recruiting
sergeant. "Talk like 'em," he had said. Therefore, I struggled bravely
with the peculiarities of the Cockney twang, recklessly dropped aitches
when I should have kept them, and prefixed them indiscriminately before
every convenient aspirate. But all my efforts were useless. The
imposition was apparent to my fellow Tommies immediately. I had only to
begin speaking, within the hearing of a genuine Cockney, when he would
say, "'Ello! w'ere do you come from? The Stites?" or, "I'll bet a tanner
you're a Yank!" I decided to make a confession, and I have been glad,
ever since, that I did. The boys gave me a warm and hearty welcome when
they learned that I was a sure-enough American. They called me "Jamie
the Yank." I was a piece of tangible evidence of the bond of sympathy
existing between the two great English-speaking nations. I told them of
the many Americans of German extraction, whose sympathies were honestly
and sincerely on the other side. But they would not have it so. I was
the personal representative of the American people. My presence in the
British army was proof positive of this.

Being an American, it was very hard, at first, to understand the class
distinctions of British army life. And having understood them, it was
more difficult yet to endure them. I learned that a ranker, or private
soldier, is a socially inferior being from the officer's point of view.
The officer class and the ranker class are east and west, and never
the twain shall meet, except in their respective places upon the
parade-ground. This does not hold good, to the same extent, upon active
service. Hardships and dangers, shared in common, tend to break down
artificial barriers. But even then,