dollars real change.

After that we rode on the train half an hour and then marched
through the streets, darkened to fool the Zeps. Around one o'clock
we brought up at Thrawl Street, at the lodgings where we were
supposed to stop until we were started for home.

The place where we were quartered was a typical London doss house.
There were forty beds in the room with mine, all of them occupied.
All hands were snoring, and the fellow in the next cot was going
it with the cut-out wide open, breaking all records. Most of the
beds sagged like a hammock. Mine humped up in the middle like a
pile of bricks.

I was up early and was directed to the place across the way where
we were to eat. It was labeled "Mother Wolf's. The Universal
Provider." She provided just one meal of weak tea, moldy bread, and
rancid bacon for me. After that I went to a hotel. I may remark in
passing that horse tenders, going or coming or in between whiles,
do not live on the fat of the land.

I spent the day--it was Sunday--seeing the sights of Whitechapel,
Middlesex Street or Petticoat Lane, and some of the slums. Next
morning it was pretty clear to me that two pounds don't go far in
the big town. I promptly boarded the first bus for Trafalgar
Square. The recruiting office was just down the road in Whitehall
at the old Scotland Yard office.

I had an idea when I entered that recruiting office that the
sergeant would receive me with open arms. He didn't. Instead he
looked me over with unqualified scorn and spat out, "Yank, ayen't
ye?"

And I in my innocence briefly answered, "Yep."

"We ayen't tykin' no nootrals," he said, with a sneer. And then:
"Better go back to Hamerika and 'elp Wilson write 'is blinkin'
notes."

Well, I was mad enough to poke that sergeant in the eye. But I
didn't. I retired gracefully and with dignity.

At the door another sergeant hailed me, whispering behind his hand,
"Hi sye, mytie. Come around in the mornin'. Hi'll get ye in." And
so it happened.

Next day my man was waiting and marched me boldly up to the same
chap who had refused me the day before.

"'Ere's a recroot for ye, Jim," says my friend.

Jim never batted an eye. He began to "awsk" questions and to fill
out a blank. When he got to the birthplace, my guide cut in and
said, "Canada."

The only place I knew in Canada was Campobello Island, a place
where we camped one summer, and I gave that. I don't think that
anything but rabbits was ever born on Ca