THE Y. M. C. A. and Harry Lauder are two social forces that one does not spontaneously connect up. But the former was the agency that brought the singer into the fighting camps of France, not only to hearten the soldiers there, but to pay a touching tribute to the sacrifice of his only son. Dr. George Adam, of Edinburgh, who went with him, gives an account of the trip in _Association Men_ (New York), the official organ of the Y. M. C. A. He also speaks of service under the banner of the Red Triangle that Mr. Lauder has rendered which brings the singing comedian before us in a manner hitherto unsuspected: “On a recent Sunday, although working at full pressure during the week in the play ‘Three Cheers’ at the Shaftesbury Theater, he gave up his rest day gladly to go away down to two of the great Canadian camps with me. “Some one in London asked the little man why he was going down to the camps. Why not join them in a quiet week-end on the river? Lauder’s reply was as quaint as usual: ‘The boys can’t get up to town to see me, so I am off to the camps to see them.’ A right royal time he gave them, too. Picture ten thousand men in a dell on the rolling downs with a little platform in the center and there Lauder singing the old favorites you have heard so often and the soldiers love so much—‘Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep,’ ‘Bantry Bay,’ ‘The Laddies Who Fought and Won,’ ‘Children’s Home,’ and many more. “This was not all; his soul must have been stirred by the sight of so many dear, brave men, for when the meeting seemed over, Lauder began to speak to the soldiers. And a real speech he made, full of imagery, poetry, and fire. May I just tell you how he closed? ‘One evening in the gloaming in a northern town I was sitting by my parlor window when I saw an old man with a pole on his shoulder come along. He was a lamp-lighter, and made the lamp opposite my window dance into brightness. Interested in his work, I watched him pass along until the gloaming gathered round and I could see him no more. However, I knew just where he was, for other lamps flashed into flame. Having completed his task, he disappeared into a side street. Those lamps burned on through the night, making it bright and safe for those who should come behind him. An avenue of lights through the traffic and dangers of the city.’