Finally, I returned to London, and after passing with some difficulty a rigid examination presided over by my chief, I lunched with him at the Reform Club, and then spent a few busy hours buying civilian clothes. Later I met my Major's wife who was in a worried condition over one big thing and another little thing. The big trouble was caused by her husband's unfortunate collision with a 5.9 shell; the little thing was caused by the fact that the Major's Airedale, Jack, had had an unfortunate incident with a harmless lamb, which made his stay in the country difficult, if not impossible. I had to relieve her of Jack so that all her attention might be devoted to the Major. The next day, I took him home to the country, hoping that the lady of the manor would suggest his staying there. She might have done so if he had shown an humble spirit. He dashed into the pond, disturbed the life out of the tiny moorhens, and, worse still, sent scurrying into the air about a dozen tame wild duck. This sealed his fate as regards the manor, so I decided that he would have to go to America with me. I had few objections, but I regretted that he was so big. He caused me much trouble and a little anxiety, but finally I got him safely on board the Cunarder. The captain seemed to like him all right, and so did many passengers, but he made much noise and eventually had to spend the greater part of his life in an unpleasant dungeon on one of the lower decks. Here he was accompanied by a well bred wire-haired fox terrier. This fox terrier gave birth, during the voyage, to seven little puppies, and the purser alleged that he would charge freight for eight dogs; thereby showing a commercial spirit but little humour, or perhaps too much humour. These notes are being written during the last days of the journey. I am enjoying the whole thing. I sit at the Captain's table accompanied by another officer from the navy, a correspondent of the _Daily Mail_, and a Bostonian and his wife whom I love rather, since I have always liked Oliver Wendell Holmes. The Bostonian is a splendid chap, turned out in an English cut suit which he hates because it seems to him too loose. I think that he looks ripping. I always agree with his arguments, feeling it to be safer; but I had to put in just a mild protest, when he observed that America could equip an army in six weeks, that would lick any Continental army. Of course, this showed some optimism, and a great faith. We were comparatively happy, however, until the naval chap had an unfortunate altercation with the Bostonian. They both meant well, I am sure, but sea travelling often changes the mental perspective of people, and the Bostonian sought another table. We expect to arrive in two days and I am looking forward to seeing New York and the skyscrapers. II NEW YORK SHELLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND AN ENTRANCE MADE TO THE "HOLY CITY" BETHLEHEM, U. S. A., October 30, 1917.