“No, no, Jimmy,” he said, pleadingly, holding the chicken protectingly.  “Let’s keep her until morning, and may be we will ha’ an egg as well!”

[ILLUSTRATION:  “‘Make us laugh again, Harry!’ Though I remember my son and want to join the ranks, I have obeyed.”  LAUDER ADDRESSING BRITISH TROOPS BEHIND THE LINES IN FRANCE (See Lauder08.jpg)]

The other British soldiers call the Scots Jock, invariably.  The Englishman, or a soldier from Wales or Ireland, as a rule, is called Tommy—­after the well-known M. Thomas Atkins.  Sometimes, an Irishman will be Paddy and a Welshman Taffy.  But the Scot is always Jock.

Jock gave us a grand welcome at Aubigny.  We were all pretty tired, but when they told me I could have an audience of seven thousand Scots soldiers I forgot my weariness, and Hogge, Adam and I, to say nothing of Johnson and the wee piano, cleared for action, as you might say.  The concert was given in the picturesque grounds of the chateau, which had been less harshly treated by the war than many such beautiful old places.  It was a great experience to sing to so many men; it was far and away the largest house we had had since we had landed at Boulogne.

After we left Aubigny, the chateau and that great audience, we drove on as quickly as we could, since it was now late, to the headquarters of General Mac——­, commanding the Fifteenth Division—­to which, of course, the men whom we had just been entertaining belonged.  I was to meet the general upon my arrival.

That was a strange ride.  It was pitch dark, and we had some distance to go.  There were mighty few lights in evidence; you do not advertise a road to Fritz’s airplanes when you are traveling roads anywhere near the front, for he has guns of long range, that can at times manage to strafe a road that is supposed to be beyond the zone of fire with a good deal of effect I have seldom seen a blacker night than that.  Objects along the side of the road were nothing but shapeless lumps, and I did not see how our drivers could manage at all to find their way.

They seemed to have no difficulty, however, but got along swimmingly.  Indeed, they traveled faster than they had in daylight.  Perhaps that was because we were not meeting troops to hold us up along this road; I believe that, if we had, we should have stopped and given them a concert, even though Johnson could not have seen the keys of his piano!

It was just as well, however.  I was delighted at the reception that had been given to the Reverend Harry Lauder, M.P., Tour all through our first day in France.  But I was also extremely tired, and the dinner and bed that loomed up ahead of us, at the end of our long ride through the dark, took on an aspect of enchantment as we neared them.  My voice, used as I was to doing a great deal of singing, was fagged, and Hogge and Dr. Adam were so hoarse that they could scarcely speak at all.  Even Johnson was pretty well done up; he was still, theoretically, at least, on the sick list, of course.  And I ha’ no doot that the wee piano felt it was entitled to its rest, too!