"
During the recital of this tale, Monroe stood looking at Barry and when
he had finished his eyes were shining with tears.
"Ay, sir, he was a man, sir," he said at length.
"Yes, you have said it, Monroe. He was a man, just a common man, but
uncommonly like God, for He did the same thing. He gave Himself for us."
Monroe turned away to his work in silence.
"Monroe," said Barry, calling him back, "look here, lad, it would not
be right for us to grieve too much for Corporal Thom. We ought to be
thankful for him and proud of him, should we not?"
"Yes, sir, I know, sir, but," he added while his lip trembled, "you hate
to lose your chum."
Only under compulsion of his conscience did Barry go to the cinema show
that night, which in this camp was run under the chaplain service and by
a chaplain. He knew what the thing would be like. His whole soul shrunk
from the silly, melodramatic films which he knew would constitute the
programme as from a nauseating dose of medicine. The billboard announced
a double header, a trite and, especially to Canadians, a ridiculous
representation of the experiences of John Bull and his wife and pretty
daughter as immigrants to the Canadian Northwest, which was to be
followed by the immortal Charlie Chaplin.
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