w that his
brethren were being mowed down by a kopje-guarded foe, his whole soul
rose in venomous sympathy. And, mixed with this genuine instinct of
devotion to the great cause of country, were stirrings of anticipated
adventure, gorgeous visions of charges, forlorn hopes, picked-up
shells, redoubts stormed; heritages of 'The Pirates of Pechili,' and
all the military romances that his prayer-book had masked.

He looked every inch an Anglo-Saxon, in his khaki uniform and his
great slouch hat, with his bayonet and his bandolier.

The night before he sailed for South Africa there was a service in St.
Paul's Cathedral, for which each volunteer had two tickets. Simon sent
his to his father. 'The Lord Mayor will attend in state. I dare say
you'll like to see the show,' he wrote flippantly.

'He'll become a Christian next,' said S. Cohn, tearing the cards in
twain.

Later, Mrs. Cohn pieced them together. It was the last chance of
seeing her boy.

VIII

Unfortunately the Cathedral service fell on a Friday night, when S.
Cohn, the Emporium closed, was wont to absorb the Sabbath peace. He
would sit, after high tea, of which cold fried fish was the prime
ingredient, dozing over the Jewish weekly. He still approved
platonically of its bellicose sentiments. This January night, the
Sabbath arriving early in the afternoon, he was snoring before seven,
and Mrs. Cohn slipped out, risking his wrath. Her religion forced her
to make the long journey on foot; but, hurrying, she arrived at St.
Paul's before the doors were opened. And throughout the long walk was
a morbid sense of one wasted ticket. She almost stopped at a friend's
house to offer the exciting spectacle, but dread of a religious rebuff
carried her past. With Christians she was not intimate enough to
invite companionship. Besides, would not everybody ask why she was
going without her husband?

She inquired for the door mentioned on her ticket, and soon found
herself one of a crowd of parents on the steps. A very genteel crowd,
she noted with pleasure. Her boy would be in good company. The scraps
of conversation she caught dealt with a world of alien things--how
little she was Anglicized, she thought, after all those years! And
when she was borne forward into the Cathedral, her heart beat with a
sense of dim, remote glories. To have lived so long in London and
never to have entered here! She was awed and soothed by the solemn
vistas, the perspectives of pillars and a