A few days later, I received from my husband a letter stating that he had just arrived at Netley Hospital, Southampton, having been wounded and, therefore, drafted home. Therefore, at the time of my experience he must have been on his way to England from Egypt. The Robin's Warning WHEN each of my four brothers was killed in the War a robin came and hopped through the house. The last time this happened mother went to bed in a worried state as, having three previous visits from the robin, she knew what to expect and dreaded the morning post. Waking up at midnight she saw Will leaning over the bed-rail in his uniform, with his head in bandages. She called him by name and he came towards her but, when she put her hand out to touch him, he vanished. News soon came that Will died on that same midnight from head wounds. Mother has never really recovered from this vision and the visits of the innocent robin. A Remarkable Story IT was at a base hospital in France, January, 1916. My brother, who had previously been partly buried by a shell bursting near him, was now dying from pneumonia. I sat by his side through the night, having travelled across the Channel to see him, as the authorities had arranged for the same in serious cases. He was a bootmaker by trade, as was his father; both working the business. In his delirium he was back home in the shop. His bed was close to the boards of the Army hut. He would fix his gaze on these boards and then swing his fist with three distinct knocks, after which he would push the palm of his flat hand up the boards, thus producing a peculiar squeaking noise. My father, home in England, was working late in the shop; there came three distinct knocks on the window, followed by the peculiar sound of someone pushing their flat hand up the window. Thinking it was somebody playing a joke he shouted, but got no answer. After a little while, it was repeated; he went outside to see who it might be, but there was no one visible, and, although by no means a nervous man, or superstitious, he felt a something, and could not proceed with his work. On my arrival home, after ten days' absence, he related his experience to me. Then everything seemed linked up. No wireless could have been more direct. My brother’s hand on the board in France had produced its effect on the shop window in North Bucks. Other Stories In Brief “WE DO NOT COMPREHEND” I am not superstitious nor a believer in spiritualism, and yet I believe there is something connected with the after life which we do not comprehend.