A Chaplain sends the following interesting story: “Yes, I’ve got a Bible sir, and. I’ve carried it through many a scrape; but I’ve got another at home, the Bible our Corporal gave me out in France, and to me, sir, it’s the best Bible in all the world. We loved our Corporal—all of us! He, was a man, sir, and a Christian; and he did his duty as a christian should. He had been a choirboy of a Church in London; and my word, his religion was a real one; it made him live clean, and speak clean, too. He was always joking’ with us fellows, but could not stick the boys swearin’ and talkin’ profane. ‘Why do you talk like that?’ he, would say. ‘Why can’t you drop those words which do you chaps, such harm?’ We often laughed about it, and sometimes chaffed, him for it, but loved and respected him all the same. Of course, he could have had us up for swearin’, but he never did. I guess he hoped in time we too would all speak clean. But I shall never forget his last mornin’, sir. The Germans had been busy strafin’ us all night, and just as the light was beginning to come I found the Corporal, white as a sheet, and bleedin’ terribly. I ran and knelt by his side, and tried to raise his head, but could see all was up with him. ‘George,’ he says to me, “I’m dying. Take my pocket book and papers, and send them home to mother. But keep my Bible. Yes—there it is, in that pocket! Keep my Bible to remember me by. ‘George,’ he says, you’re crying old chap. Oh, don’t cry for me. I’m so happy. Far happier than you who are left behind! Why—don’t you know? ―it’s what the old Book tells us about, bein’ happy when we’re going home!”