The Ypres Times.
205
A MONEY RAISING IDEA.
To the'Editor of The Ypres Times."
Sir,
Last Christmas I saw a new kind of handker
chief, which, had for decoration a map of a big
town and its surroundings, things mighty useful to
the traveller or the visitor, and even to the towns
folk. I wonder if it would be a good idea if the
League were to print, say, on khaki handker
chiefs, a map of Ypres and the Salient. They
could be sold at all League functions at a fair.y
small price, and I am pretty sure a lot would be
bought as souvenirs. Besides, there would be a
sale for them to pilgrims going over to Ypres. I
think quite a good sum could be raised in this
way and, knowing that you are always open *o
receive suggestions from members, I risk passing
it on. Yours faithfully,
V. S. Cory
(47, Wetbourne-road, Handsworth,
Birmingham).
A LADY'S APPEAL.
To the Editor of The Ypres Times."
Sir,
I shall be very grateful if any stretcher bearer
of the 2nd Highland Light Infantry or of the
2nd Warwicks who was at Ypres in October, 1914,
will communicate with me. Any communications
will be regarded as confidential. Letters should
be addressed to Mrs. Pumphrey, Hindley Hall,
Stocksfield-on-T yne.
Yours faithfully,
F. Pumphrey.
A MOTHER'S LETTER.
(To the Secretary of the Ypres Leagued
Dear Sir,
I got your kind letter this morning, and I
am very thankful to think that I have not been
forgotten, for I know you have a lot to deal
with. Please add me to the Lest We Forget
League. Perhaps you won't be weary hearing
tales. Sometimes they do get weary, don't they?
at least, my husband says they do. My brave
little soldier boy drew a' picture from an old
Family Journal," in 1916, just before he joined
up. It was one of a Tommy going back to
France, with his pack on his back, and a photo
of his sweetheart or his mother in his hand, and
it said underneath, Lest We Forget." And you
know how it came to be my turn when my best
and bravest boy left me, to repeat here on earth
the League's words.
Yes, I should like a cornflower. He loved the
cornflowers best of all. It all seems funny,
dosn't it, yet I knew my boy would say,
Cheerio, Mother; I did my duty. You live on
for the others.
I feel I shall never see his grave, but perhaps
his little brothers and sisters will some day, when
they grow up.
Yours sincerelv,
A Mother.
[The mother was Mrs. Camshell, 19, Pleasant
Street, Preston, and it may interest some of our
readers to read the Secretary's reply. Here it
is
Dear Madam,Very many thanks for your
more than kind letter, of the 6th instant, which
was a great pleasure to me to receive, and it
was very nice of vou to write it. Far from being
wearied, all you told me interested me very much
and touched me not a little. I think you are a
very brave woman, and only a mother can know
all the pain she suffers, who has borne and lost.
But I think your son would be proud of the
spirit in which you are bearing this heavy trial
and sorrow. It is the right way of looking at
it, but the right way is nearly always the hardest,
although in the end we shall realise the wisdom
of our choice. I should be so interested to hear
if the Imperial War Graves Commission have
been able to send you a satisfactory reply to your
enquiriesperhaps you would let me know on en
closed stamped, addressed envelope.
I hope you will like the spray of cornflowers
I am sending with this letter wear one on corn
flower day, in memorv."]
THREE JOLLY SOLDIER BOYS.
Three jolly soldier boys,
Travelling down by car,
Back to Blighty for a spell,
Back to Pa and Ma;
Nicely fed up by the doctor,
Nicely tucked in by the sister,
Nicely patted by the padre.
Three jolly wounded boys,
All the way from Wipers.
Th ee jollv soldier boys,
Sitting in the train,
Passing Ashford in a fog,
Clapham in the rain.
Jack got his in Windy Trench.
Bill got his at Four Tree Dump.
I got mine at Polly Farm.
Three jolly smashed-up boys,
All the way from Wipers.
Three jolly soldier boys,
Went before a board,
Invalided out for good
Pensions as reward.
Jack was something in the City.
Bill sold socks behind a counter.
I stoked engines on the railway.
Three jolly pensioned boys.
All the way from Wipers.
Three jolly soldier boys,
Couldn't get a job,
Far too proud to go and beg,
Far too good to rob.
Jack's pawned nearly all his clothing.
Bill's best boots won't hold in water.
I've not eaten food since Sunday.
Three jolly hungry boys,
All the wav from Wipers.
R.A.
