be
the most conservative of all British Christians. Now every
one--including yourself--admits that the Church of England is the
most conservative of all the Reformed Churches. Besides----'

"For hours at a time they used to go on like this, and the futile
discussion became even more annoying as I got to know the different
arguments as well as either of them.

"One day I was sent up to the ambulance's advance post at Maple
Copse--you know, that little wood in front of Ypres."

"Unhealthy spot that," said the general.

"So unhealthy, sir, that while I was there a whizz-bang hit my
dug-out and blew my sergeant into small pieces, which remained
hanging on the branches of the trees. It was a pity, for he was the
best forward in the brigade football team. I put all I could find of
him into a cloth, announced the burial for the next day, and then, as
it was my turn to be relieved, I went back to the ambulance
headquarters.

"My return was distinctly lively. On leaving the splendid trench
which is called Zillebeke Road, I was silly enough to cross the
exposed ground near the railway embankment. A machine gun thought it
rather amusing to have a pot at me from Hill 60----"

"All right, doctor," said General Bramble, "spare us the details."

"Well, just as I left Ypres, I came across a Ford car which took me
back to camp. In the mess I found Church of England and Church of
Scotland arguing away as usual, while Roman Church was reading his
breviary in a corner.

"'Satan, whence comest thou?' one of them asked me.

"'Well, gentlemen,' I replied, 'you ought to be glad to see me,
because I really am back from hell this time.'

"And I told them my adventures, putting in a lot of local colour
about cannonades, explosions, whistling bullets and hailstorm
barrages, in a style worthy of our best war correspondents."

"You old humbug!" grunted the colonel.

"'By the way,' I concluded, 'I've got a job for one of you!
Freshwater, my sergeant, has been blown to bits, and what I could
collect of him is to be buried to-morrow morning. I'll give you the
route--Messines gate, Zillebeke----'

"I saw the two padres' faces fall swiftly.

"'What religion?' they both asked simultaneously.

"'Baptist,' I replied carelessly. 'Have a cigarette, padre?'

"The two enemies gazed attentively at the ceiling; Roman Church kept
his nose in his breviary and his ears well pricked up.

"'Well,' said Church of England at length, 'I wouldn't mi