hings, but I just shiver when I think
o' dying; then I tak' a wee drap of whisky, and it gi'es me courage."

"Poor sort of courage," replied Tom; "besides, you take more than a
'wee drap,' as you call it."

"Ay, it needs mair and mair. But it's this way, Tom; when I think of
going over the water into those trenches, and when I think of the
shells falling all around me; when I call to mind that men may be dying
at my richt hand and on my left, blown all to smithereens, I get
afraid, but after I have filled mysel' fou' of whisky I don't care. I
know I ought to be ashamed of mysel'; I know, too, it's the wrang sort
of courage. As for you, Tom, you have been wiser than me, you've got
releegion."

"Nay, I've nowt o' th' sort," replied Tom, "I've just kept straight,
that's all."

"But it's not enough, Tom," said the Scotchman.

"What does a' mean?" asked Tom.

"I mean that a man wants releegion," replied Alec very solemnly. "I
have been a thinking lad all my life, and when I chucked releegion and
professed to believe in Colonel Ingersoll I kenned fine I was making a
fool of mysel'. It's either whisky or releegion to keep a man's
courage up; that is, such a man as me."

"Then you think there's something after death?" said Tom.

"Ay, lad, I am sure of it. I'm a-thinking you're richt, Tom, in going
to the Y.M.C.A. meetings, and I know you're wrang in not getting
releegion. E'en when I'm fou' of whisky, I have known that releegion
was necessary; and if I only had the strength I'd gi' up the whisky."

The next day the camp was in a great state of excitement; the men had
received definite information that they were to start for the Front in
two days' time. They did not know where they were going, but they were
told it would be somewhere in France or Belgium. At first there was
great cheering at this; the men shouted and boasted of what they would
do when they were face to face with the Germans. After that, almost as
if by prearrangement, a solemn silence fell among them; evidently they
were thinking deeply. Some paid longer visits than usual to the wet
canteen or public-houses; others, again, were seen walking alone as
though they had no desire for company.

We who remain at home in safety, and talk about the heroism of the men
going away to the Front, little realise the thoughts which pass through
their minds. When the order to embark comes they don't say very much
about it, and even when they do talk they