This volume opens in a lightsome tone, how could it be otherwise. Two Australians swanking in khaki in the reserved seats at a picture theatre, with bright music, and with two pink-cheeked English "wussies" by their side, are not likely to feel down-cast and for the moment, at least, the sorrows of military service and reduced to the happy minimum.
The music was good, the pictures fair, the seats comfortable etc, etc, but ……. At 10.20 we had to flee from our cosy seats, and seek the coldness of Tottenham Road. Our friends escorted us to Euston Station, which was within a few minutes walk from their home and we boarded the 10.50 train to Birmingham after the process of victualling had taken place. This being the mail train, it