of broad stairs the little group that had preceded us stood behind
Boyce, who was receiving the cheers of the troops--soldiers and
volunteers and the Godbury School Officers' Training Corps--drawn up in
the Market Square. When the cheers died away the crowd raised cries for
a speech.

Again Boyce spoke.

"The reception you have given my mother and myself," he said, "we
refuse to take personally. It is a reception given to the soldiers, and
the mothers and wives of soldiers, of the Empire, of whom we just
happen to be the lucky representatives. Whole regiments, to say nothing
of whole armies, can't all, every jack man, receive Victoria Crosses.
But every regiment very jealously counts up its honours. You'll hear
men say: 'Our regiment has two V.C.s, five D.S.O.s, and twenty
Distinguished Conduct Medals.' and the feeling is that all the honours
are lumped together and shared by everybody, from the Colonel to the
drummer-boys. And each individual is proud of his share because he
knows that he deserves it. And so it happens that those whom chance has
set aside for distinction, like the lucky winners in a sweepstake, are
the most embarrassed people you can imagine, because everybody is doing
everything that they did every day in the week. For instance, if I
began to tell you a thousandth part of the dare-devil deeds of my
friend here, Captain Winslow of my regiment, he would bolt like a
rabbit into the Town Hall and fall on his knees and pray for an
earthquake. And whether the earthquake came off or not, I'm sure he
would never speak to me again. And they're all like that. But in
honouring me you are honouring him, and you're honouring our regiment,
and you're honouring the army. And in honouring Mrs. Boyce, you are
honouring that wonderful womanhood of the Empire that is standing
heroically behind their men in the hell upon God's good earth which is
known as the front."

It was a soldierlike little speech, delivered with the man's gallant
charm. Young Winslow gripped his arm affectionately and I heard him
say--"You are a brute, sir, dragging me into it." The little party
descended the steps of the Town Hall. The words of command rang out.
The Parade stood at the salute, which Boyce acknowledged, guided by
Winslow and his mother he reached his car, to which he was attended by
the Mayor and Mayoress. After formal leave-taking the Boyces and
Winslow drove off amid the plaudits of the crowd. Then Sir Anthony and
Lady Fenim