Vain, those all-shattering guns,

Unless proud England keep, untamed,

The strong heart of her sons.

So, let his name through Europe ring—

A man of mean estate,

Who died as firm as Sparta’s king,

Because his soul was great.

Sir F. H. Doyle’s “Private of the Buffs.”

We run a series of concerts each evening round a big camp fire, and I am always the first to start them off. There are three French girls who come down and sing for us, but they are not as good as you at singing: A Private of the A.M.C.

The Kilt