CHAPTER XXXIV
HOME
Home at last. As before, no wild hurling of ourselves into each others' arms, but just a prosaic question from my mother:
"Well, how are you, laddie?"
"Feeling fine. Got anything to eat, Mater?"
Thus was all emotion covered.
My father came in the morning to see me. I tried just for fun to surprise him into some display of emotion by suddenly slipping out in front of him. I did not know the real Englishman till then. All he did was to pale a little, and then, coolly eyeing me from head to foot, he remarked, "They didna get thee after all."
"No, Dad, I got away very lucky."
"Tha did; let's go and hae a look round."
Just like that grim old land today. No fuss, no braggadocio, just a quiet, grim resolution to see it through without wasting time on any heroics. Thus are the English misunderstood. Self-effacement is not comprehended by some people, and they mistake the quiet of the Old Land for lethargy, and believe that damnable lie manufactured so skilfully by German propagandists about the quitting Britisher. When the history of the war is really written, if other nations will be fair and forget their inherent prejudice toward the British, they will understand something of what they have done for the cause of humanity in this War of Wars.