When we were in the line the machine-gunners were always split up into small sections over the front, their guns of course being very carefully concealed. In consequence, just when I thought I had reached an area which was quite uninhabited, I would stumble on some queer little hole, and, on calling down it to see if there were any men there, the answer would be, "The machine-gun battalion," and I would find myself among friends. At Averdoignt they had one of the best rest billets they ever had, and they enjoyed it thoroughly. Owing to the great distance which I had to cover in doing my parish visiting among the battalions, the difficulty of transportation, which had been serious from the beginning, became even more pressing, and some good friend suggested to me on the quiet that I should try to get a Clino, (that is a machine-gun side-car) from the Motor Machine-Gun Brigade. With great trepidation, I made an excursion one day to their headquarters at Verdrel. The O.C. was most kind and sympathetic. I shall never cease to invoke blessings upon his head. He took me over to the machine-shop and there presented to me, for my use until it should be recalled, a new Clino which had just come up from the base. The officer in charge uttered a protest by saying that they only had six Clinos for the Brigade, but the major remarked dryly, "And after Canon Scott has got his we shall only have five." Surely once again the Lord had provided for me. I was driven back to the Chateau in the new machine, but then had to find a driver. One was provided by the signallers. He was a graduate in science of McGill, so I used to lay stress upon my personal greatness from the fact that I had a university graduate for my chauffeur. Many and varied were the drives which Lyons and I had together, and many and varied were our adventures. Had the Clino not been both exceedingly strong and very new it would have come to grief long before it did. To go rattling down the St. Pol road at forty-five kilometres an hour was a frequent occurrence. All I had to sit upon was a seat without arms, while my foot rested on a bar in (p. 260) front. People asked me how it was I did not tumble off. I told them that I tied myself to the back of the seat with my spinal cord. I got the sappers to make me a large box which fitted on the back of the vehicle and had a padlock. In it I used to carry my bag of a thousand hymn books and other necessaries for church parades, and on the top of the box, as a protection to my car, I had the words "Canon Scott" painted in large white letters. The dust as we threaded our way through the streams of lorries almost choked us, but we could cover the ground in a short space of time which was a great thing. Lyons never managed the lights very successfully, and one rainy night after midnight, when I was returning from saying good-bye to the artillery who were moving South, in a lonely part of the road he ran the machine