Foreman.  “I WAS A BIT DISAPPOINTED, SIR.  ’E WASN’T ’ARF AS GOOD AS MY YOUNG FLORRIE.  WHY, ’E PLAYED THERE FOR CLOSE ON TWO HOURS, AND NEVER ONCE CROSSED ’IS ’ANDS.”]

* * * * *

“BOTCHES.”

AN APPEAL FOR GOD-PARENTS.

For many years the village of Chailey, in Sussex—­famous topographically for possessing that conical tree which is said to mark the centre of the county, and for a landmark windmill of dazzling whiteness—­has been famous sociologically for its Heritage Craft Schools of crippled boys and girls.  Among the ameliorative institutions of this country none has a finer record than these schools, where ever since 1897 the work of converting helplessness into helpfulness has been going bravely on.  Entering as complete dependents, the inmates leave fully equipped to earn their living unassisted, the boys chiefly as carpenters, and the girls as needlewomen.  In some cases the cures effected have been remarkable.  In the late War seven-and-twenty Guild boys fought in the ranks, four of whom were killed and are now proudly commemorated on the wall of the School church.

This contribution of fighting men, together with a certain activity in munition-making, is not, however, Chailey’s only share in the War, for the Government are using its experience for the education of cripples of a larger growth.  The boys have, in short, surrendered their comfortable old quarters—­now transferred to a War Hospital, named, after the Heritage’s chief patron, the Princess Louise Special Military Surgical Hospital—­to companies of maimed soldiers, who are sent to Chailey to learn how much of usefulness and fun can still remain when limbs are missing; and, by a charming inspiration, their teachers in this great lesson are the boys themselves.  It is no doubt encouraging for a soldier who has lost both arms to be told by a kindly and enthusiastic visitor at his bedside that all will be well, and he will be able to manage without them; but a certain measure of scepticism and despair may remain to darken his waking hours.  But when a little fellow in precisely the same plight shows him how the disabilities have been conquered, his zest in life begins to return.  Seeing is believing, and believing means new endeavour.  The result is that the crippled soldiers at Chailey, taught by the crippled boys, have been transformed into happy and active men, and not a few of them have discovered themselves to possess faculties of which they had no notion.  There is even an armless billiard-player among them; and I could not wish him a happier setting for the exercise of his skill.  For here is one of the finest Y.M.C.A. recreation halls in the country, with a view of the South Downs that probably no other can boast.  Whether or not the method of learning from a young cripple the art of being an old one is novel, I cannot say, but it has been proved to be eminently successful; and one of its attractions is the pride taken not only in their mature pupils by the immature masters but in the boys by the men.