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Connor, Ralph, Pseudonym, 1860-1937

"The Sky Pilot in No Man's Land"

One never knew just what vagary the chaplain
might put on. Failing to move him by imploring gesture, Barry finally
approached him, and with elaborate, courteous formality, offered him his
hand, and finally conducted him to the piano stool. Again the delighted
audience went into a roar of cheers.
From that moment, and for a full hour, Barry had them at his will, now
listening spellbound to some simple old heart song, now beating hand and
foot to a reel, now roaring to the limit of their lung power some old
and well-loved popular air.
"Ain't he a bird?" said the major to the Commanding Officer.
"He's fine," assented the Commanding Officer with a great sigh. "I can't
tell you what a burden he has lifted from me. It's worth a week's rest
to the men, and, poor chaps, they need it." Lowering his voice, he
leaned over to the major and said, "We may be going up again to-morrow
night."
"To-morrow night, colonel!" exclaimed the major, aghast.
"Not a word, but I have exceedingly grave news.


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