st in endeavouring to make connections, and
gave us the opportunity to see numbers of old friends whom we must
otherwise have missed. One day we would be at a meeting of miners at
Redmuth in Cornwall, on another at Harrow or Rugby Schools. At the
latter, an old college friend, who is now head master there, gave us a
royal welcome. During the last fortnight at home a splendid chance was
afforded me to visit daily the clinics of an old friend, Sir Robert
Jones, England's famous orthopedic surgeon. He is one of the most
wonderful and practical of men, and he opened our eyes to the
possibility of medical mission work in the very heart of England--for
if ever there was an apostle of hope for the deformed and paralyzed he
certainly is the man. His Sunday morning free clinics crowded even the
street opposite his office door with waiting patients of the poorest
class. Equally beneficent also is the large and wonderful hospital
built specially for derelict children on the heather-covered hills
just above our home in Cheshire. But most unique of all was his
Basschurch Hospital, constructed mostly of sheet iron, standing in the
middle of a field in the country forty miles away from Liverpool.
Every second Sunday, Sir Robert Jones used to motor over there and
operate "in the field." No expedition have I ever enjoyed better in my
life than when he was good enough to pick us up on his way, and we saw
him tackle the motley collection of halt and lame, whom the lady of
the hospital, herself a marvellous testimony to his skill, collected
from the neighbouring town slums between his visits. The hospital was
the nearest thing I know to our little "one-horse shows" scattered
along the Labrador coast; and there was a homing feeling in one's
heart all the time at these open-air clinics.

As commander-in-chief of the orthopedic work of the British Army in
the war, I am certain that Colonel Sir Robert Jones has found the
experiences of his improvised clinics among the most valuable assets
he could have had. One day he has promised that he will bring his
magic wand to Labrador; for he is a sportsman in the best sense of the
word as well as a healer of limbs.

The quickest way back to St. John's being _via_ Canada, we returned by
the Allan Line, and lectured in the Maritime Provinces as we passed
North.

It would appear that one must possess an insatiable love of lecturing.
As a matter of fact, nothing is farther from the truth. But the
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