mask, shorn of
all dreams. Almost it might have been a death-mask for the soul of Jamie
O'Hara. It showed no response now when "Granny" spoke; only the lad's
hands fluttered a moment toward the window, then dropped heavily back into
his lap.

"Aye, maybe I feel it." The voice was colorless and tired. "I can't be
remembering clear sunlight any more. The last days of the fighting, smoke
was too thick in the sky, or the rains fell."

Eleven pairs of eyes and one odd one cast about for some inspiration.
"Sure, think o' somethin' pleasanter nor cannon smoke an' rain. Think
o'--" "Granny" floundered for a moment, then gave up in despair.

"That's all I see when I look up. When I look down, it's worse--an
everlasting earth, covered with mud and dying men!" Jamie shivered.

Larry struggled out of his torment. "I say, Jamie, don't ye mind the song
ye were makin' for us the day we fell back from Cambrai? 'Twas an Irish
one, full o' the sun an' the singin' birds of Donegal. Wi' the Fritzies
risin' like a murdtherous tide behind us, 'twas all that kept the heart in
us that day. Ye say it for Miss O'Leary. Sure, ye've never said a song for
her yet."

Jamie shook his head. "I'm sorry, lad; I've lost it. I was making so many
songs those days--ye couldn't be expecting a body to carry them all about
in his head. Now could ye?" The lips tried bravely to smile, and failed
again.

But Larry grinned triumphantly. "Sure 'Granny' has it wrote down. He
showed it to me once. Fetch it, 'Granny,' an' let Jamie be re--" He broke
off, aghast; the lads about him were staring in absolute horror. Only the
singing lad showed nothing. He might not have heard, or, hearing, the
words were meaningless.

So Sheila took matters into her own hands. She covered the eyes with fresh
gauze, wrapped Jamie up, and bundled him out in his chair to Harrigan with
the remark that the day was too fine to miss and there was more of it
outside the hospital than in. She watched until she had seen Harrigan take
him to a sunny, wind-sheltered corner of the gardens, and then she came
back to 7-A. She was thinking of Peter Brooks, her man at the front, and
she was trying to fathom with all her heart what manner of healing she
would give had Peter come back to her as Jamie O'Hara had come. She closed
the door of the ward behind her and faced the twelve.

"Lads, what are we going to do for Jamie?"

Larry groaned out loud. It was the first luxury of expression he had
in