still
allowed in the hotels? should German music be played at Queen's Hall?
should horse racing be continued?--these were the questions whose
discussion occupied a considerable amount of space in the newspapers.
Of course the theatres kept open, German music was played, and horse
racing continued: A large section of the public had to be amused, and
the livelihood of the actors and actresses and their relatives
depended upon it; if all German music were eliminated there would be
little left to choose from; and the important racing horse industry
could not be allowed to languish on account of a mere vulgar war.

So everything went on as before war-time except that gradually the
German waiters disappeared. "Business as usual" was the slogan, for
the ordinary business man rather fancied that he belonged to a nation
great enough to carry on war as a side issue without seriously
altering its daily routine.

For a while the big hotels and restaurants had a bad time of it, and
the management of the Cecil and Savoy thought of closing down. At this
trying juncture Sir Sam Hughes, Minister of Militia for Canada,
arrived in London and put up at the Savoy; other officers came to see
him and stayed there also. Temporary offices were opened; men looking
for contracts frequented the place and the Savoy quickly became the
Canadian headquarters in London.

Special rates for rooms were given Canadian officers and it was
possible to obtain a magnificently furnished, steam-heated room for no
more than was paid at other hotels for much inferior accommodation.
The Savoy Hotel, warm, comfortable and American like, located at the
heart of things, close to the theatre district and the War Office, had
a "homey" appeal to us, and it speedily became the centre of all
things Canadian in London; and the patronage of the Canadians tided it
over a bad financial period.

If you knew that one of your Canadian friends was in London, all you
had to do was to sit in the rotunda of the Savoy and watch the door.
You would be sure to see him come through those revolving doors some
time during the day. In that rotunda I met men whom I went to school
with, men who lived in my own city, but whom I had not seen for 20
years; others whom I met there had travelled all over creation since I
had last seen them. It soon got to be quite the natural thing to meet
old friends in this way.

In theatre land the problem play had disappeared as if by magic.
Several at