e veterans in khaki and civies who
had fought as comrades of the Prince in the war. To these he went next.

It was a lengthy ceremony, for there were many to inspect. There were
Canadian Highlanders and riflemen in the square, as well as veterans
dating back to the time of the North-West Rebellion of '85. And there
was also the regimental goat of the 5th West Canadians, a big, husky
fellow, who endeavoured to take control of the ceremony with his horns,
as befitted a veteran who sported four service chevrons and a wound
stripe.

Here, too, the crowd was the most stirring and remarkable feature of
the ceremony. It began with an almost European placidity of decorum,
standing quietly behind the wooden railing on three sides of the
Campus, and as quietly filling the seats in and about the glowingly
draped grand stand before the University building. As the ceremony
proceeded, however, the crowd behind the stand pressed forward, getting
out on to the field. Soldiers linked arms to keep it back, soldiers
with bayonets were drawn from the ranks of veterans to give additional
weight, wise men mounted the stand and strove to stem the forward
pressure with logic. But that crowd was filled with much the same
spirit that made the sea so difficult a thing to reason with in King
Canute's day. Neither soldiers nor words of the wise could check it.
It flowed forward into the Campus, a sea of men and women, shop girls
not caring a fig if they _were_ "late back" and had a half-day docked,
children who swarmed amid Olympian legs, babies in mothers' arms, whose
presence in that crush was a matter of real terror to us less hardened
British--an impetuous mass of young and old, masculine and feminine
life that cared nothing for hard elbows and torn clothes as long as it
got close to the Prince.

Before the inspection was finished, before the Prince could get back to
the stand to present medals, the Campus was no longer a hollow square,
it was a packed throng.

And the crowd, having won this vantage, took matters into its own hands
until, indeed, its ardour began to verge on the dangerous.

As the Prince left the field the great crowd swept after him, until the
whole mass was jammed tight against the iron railings at the entrance
of the Campus. The Prince was in the heart of this throng surrounded
by police who strove to force a way out for him. The crowd fought as
heartily to get at him. There was a wild moment when the throng