perial soldiers were
"resting" there while back from the trenches.

We were the First Canadians. We were expected, and the English Tommies
determined to give us right royal welcome and a hearty handshake. We had a
reputation to keep up, for in England the Cockney Tommy and his brother
"civvies" had named us the "Singing Can-ydians."

But on the road to Armentieres ... oh, _ma foi_! There was no singing. Call
us rather the "Swearing Can-ydians," as we stumbled, bent double, lifting
swollen feet, like Agag, treading on eggs through the streets of the city.

Tommy Atkins to right of us; Tommy Atkins to left of us, cobblestones
beneath us, we staggered and swayed. The English boys cheered and yelled a
greeting. It was rousing, it was thrilling, it was a welcome that did our
hearts good; but we could not rise to the occasion.

Suddenly from out of the crowd of khaki figures there came a voice--that of
a true son of the East End--a suburb of Whitechapel was surely his cappy
home.

"S'y, 'ere comes the Singin' Can-ydians ... 'Ere they come ... 'Ear their
singin'."

Not a sound from our ranks. Silence. But it was too much. No one can offer
a gibe to a man of the West without his getting it back. Far from down our
column some one yelled:

"Are we downhearted?" "No!" We peeled back the answer raucously enough, and
then on with the song:

Are we downhearted? No, no, no.
Are we downhearted? No, no, no.
Troubles may come and troubles may go,
But we keep smiling where'er we go,
Are we downhearted? Are we downhearted?
No, no, _NO_!

"No, Gor'blimey, y'er not down'earted, but yer look bally well
broken-'earted," chanted our small Cockney comrade, with sarcasm ringing
strong in every clipped tone of his voice.

CHAPTER V

UNDER FIRE

Broken-hearted! Gee! We sure were--nearly; but not quite. No. This was bad;
there was worse to come, and still we kept our hearts whole.

But there was another trial now, and we were directed to rest billets in
what presumably had been a two-story schoolhouse or seminary. As soon as we
reached this shelter we flopped down on the hard bare floor and lay just as
we were, not even loosening our harness.

We were less than three miles from the front lines. Even at this short
distance Armentieres, as a whole, had not suffered greatly from shell fire,
though the upper floors of this old seminary had been shattered almost to
ruins long before our arrival.

The