ve the money to the Y.M.C.A. to spend on
the soldiers and sailors.' A few days later, the leader of the Euston
hut was sitting at a table in the central hall when his attention was
attracted by a group of ragged children, standing round the entrance.
Curiously they would peer inside and then step back, until two or three
bolder than the others walked right in as if the whole place belonged to
them. That was too much for the leader. He went up to them and cried,
'You must run away; this place isn't for boys and girls, it's for
soldiers and sailors.' Looking up into his face a little ragged
youngster retorted, 'Please, sir, we've given our money towards this
show, and we want to see how it's run!' On inquiry, it was ascertained
that the children belonged to one of the poorest of the schools in the
north of London, and out of their poverty they had given no less than
thirty shillings, nearly the whole of it in pennies and farthings. Many
memorial gifts have been received, and a hut that will be an inspiration
and help to tens of thousands, is surely one of the most suitable of
memorials.

[Illustration: A REFUGE FOR THE REFUGEES]

Business firms and merchant princes have given their thousands; others,
with equal generosity, have contributed shillings. In the Channel
Islands, there was a fish-hawker, named Richards, who eked out a slender
livelihood by selling fish on the streets of Jersey. The coming of the
war hit him so hard that he was compelled to leave for France to seek
other employment. He got a job under the contractors who were building
the hutments in the Harfleur Valley. He did well, and eventually
returned home to Jersey. The Sunday after his return, his minister was
taking up special collections for the hut fund. Richards had found the
Red Triangle huts at Havre a great boon, and on entering the church at
the evening service, handed his minister a little paper packet
containing coins. The padre fingered the parcel and said to himself, 'He
has given six pennies, a generous gift, too, under the circumstances!'
Imagine his surprise on opening the packet to find there six
half-crowns. He said, 'You ought not to give so much; you can't possibly
afford it.' 'When I remember all the Y.M.C.A. did for me when a stranger
in France and homeless,' was his reply, 'I can't possibly do less, and
wish I could give more.'

[Illustration: Y.M.C.A. MARQUEE IN THE SHELL-SWEPT SOMME AREA]

A flower-seller at a popular seaside