attention of the corps--a
matter of the highest importance, which demanded their immediate and
serious attention, and which they dared not any longer ignore. It was
the matter of venereal disease in our Canadian army.

His statistics and illustrative incidents gripped hard the hearts of
the men present. He closed with a demand that steps be taken that day to
deal with the situation. The Canadian people had entrusted them with
the care of their boys' souls. "Their souls," he cried. "I say our first
duty is to their bodies. I am not saying the percentage is large. It is
not as large as in the civilian population at home. But why any? We must
care for these men's bodies. They fight with their bodies."

His last sentence struck Barry to the heart. It recalled his own sermon,
spoken in Edmonton to his father's battalion. Immediately he was on his
feet, and without preface or apology, reproduced as far as he was able
the M. O.'s speech of the previous night, and that without expurgation.

There was but little discussion. There was but one opinion. It was
resolved to call a joint meeting of the chaplains and medical officers
to decide upon a course of action.

As Barry was leaving the meeting, the senior chaplain, an old Anglican
clergyman, with a saintly face and a smile that set one's tenderest
emotions astir, came to him, and putting his hand affectionately upon
his shoulder, said:

"And how is your work going, my dear fellow?"

It was to Barry as if his father's hand were upon his shoulder, and
before he was aware he was pouring out the miserable story of his own
sad failure as a chaplain.

"Poor boy! Poor boy!" the old gentleman kept saying. "I know how you
feel. Just so, just so!"

When Barry had finished relieving his heart of the burden that had so
long lain upon it, the old gentleman took him by the hand and said:

"My dear fellow, remember they are far from home. These boys need their
mothers. They sorely need their mothers! And, my boy, they need God. And
they need you. Good-bye!"

Barry came away with a warm feeling in his heart, and in it a new
purpose and resolve. No longer would he be a policeman to his men. He
would try to forget their faults, and to remember only how sorely they
needed their mothers and their God, and that they needed him, too.

He found the camp thrilling with great news, glorious news. The day so
long awaited had come. The battalion was under orders for France. At
that very mom