h organ. The side-drummer, who
played the side-drum, bass drum, cymbals, Chinese block, motor-horn,
triangle, and clappers was a boy who had lost both eyes.

I have vivid recollections of the celebration at St. Dunstan's on
Armistice Day, November 11th, 1918; on that day the band excelled
itself, and played as if it meant that its music should be heard in
Germany. This occasion is one that will live long in the memory of those
of us who were at St. Dunstan's when the "scrap of paper" virtually
ending the war was signed. Our Rag-time Band then really came into its
own. Ask London. She will tell you that there was never a more popular
band in the city. The students of St. Dunstan's paraded through the
streets of the great metropolis in full regalia. As an initial step to
our parade, we managed somehow or other to secure a disused old
fire-engine, and on this the band piled. Sir Arthur's battalion lined up
in fours and followed. Through the busiest streets of the city we
marched with, at first, about two hundred and fifty men in the
parade. But before we had finished we extended over more than a quarter
of a mile. A procession of munitioners happened to meet us, and when
they found out who we were they immediately tacked themselves onto our
little line. We marched to Buckingham Palace, and here we were halted by
our leader--a Canadian, by the way. It seems that word had been passed
to their Majesties that the St. Dunstan's men were outside. At any rate,
they both came out, and I doubt if his Majesty ever had such a salute as
was given him on that day. Sergeant-Major George Eades, a Canadian
pioneer, drooped the colours with a flag that could not have measured
more than a foot square; but his Majesty took the salute and answered
it.

[Illustration: Sightless Canadian Four]

Besides the amusements already mentioned, dances were held frequently
and thoroughly enjoyed. Then, as I have said, there was rowing, and
Regent's Park Lake was constantly visited by blind lads and their
friends to enjoy this sport. We had even a four-oared Canadian crew--all
blind, and as they skimmed over the lake, rowing in perfect time, an
observer would have difficulty in detecting that they were sightless.

CHAPTER IX

MEMORIES OF THE FIGHTING FRONT

During my early days at St. Dunstan's, I was inclined to brood a bit,
and the past was constantly before my mind's eye; but gradually under
occupation the past became shadowy, and the fu