d at the other side of the
trunk, the shell itself remaining firmly embedded in the tree.

* * * * *

An Australian officer one day sauntered into the 'Crystal Palace,' an
important Y.M.C.A. centre in Havre. He was interested, and well he might
be. It is a huge building, and swarms of men assemble there in the
evenings. The Australian's interest took a practical form. Before
leaving he handed two one-pound notes to the leader, expressing regret
that he could not make it more, and adding, 'I think you Y.M.C.A. people
will make a religious man of me before the war is over.' 'What do you
mean?' said the secretary. 'Well,' said he, 'I have never had any use
for religion, but at the battle of ---- I felt down and out. I didn't
care much if the Boche killed me. I had had nothing to eat for
days--when suddenly a Y.M.C.A. man appeared, heaven knows where he came
from, but he was there right enough, and he handed me a good hot drink,
a packet of biscuits, and some cigarettes. Yes,' said he, 'I believe
you Y.M.C.A. men will make a religious man of me before you have
finished.'

* * * * *

In war-time people often forget their differences, and in Paris one of
our splendid British soldiers, who was a Roman Catholic, lay badly
wounded and terribly ill. He wanted to confess, but there was no English
priest near. Ultimately a French priest confessed and absolved him
through an American Y.M.C.A. lady--a Protestant--who acted as
interpreter.

* * * * *

In the early days of the war a valued worker on Salisbury Plain was the
grandson of a famous Cornish revivalist. He was an ordained man and a
very strong Protestant. He went out to France later on as a chaplain of
the United Board. Returning home on furlough, he called at Headquarters
and told his experiences on the battlefield. 'You will be surprised,'
said he, 'when I tell you that my greatest friend in Flanders was a
Roman Catholic padre. He was one of the best men I ever knew, and we had
an excellent working arrangement. On the battlefield if I came across
any of his men, I would hand them on to him, and he would pass my men on
to me. If he were not at hand, I would try my best to help the dying
Roman Catholic soldier as I thought my friend would have helped him had
he been there, and _vice versa_. I shall never forget,' said he, 'my
last night in Flanders and our affectionate farewell