When I saw the first troops going away, I wondered how their mothers let them go, and I made up my mind that I would not let my boy go,--I was so glad he was only seventeen,--for hope was strong in our hearts that it might be over before he was of military age. It was the Lusitania that brought me to see the whole truth. Then I saw that we were waging war on the very Princes of Darkness, and I knew that morning when I read the papers, I knew that it would be better--a thousand times better--to be dead than to live under the rule of people whose hearts are so utterly black and whose process of reasoning is so oxlike--they are so stupidly brutal. I knew then that no man could die better than in defending civilization from this ghastly thing which threatened her! Soon after that I knew, without a word being said, that my boy wanted to go--I saw the seriousness come into his face, and knew what it meant. It was when the news from the Dardanelles was heavy on our hearts, and the newspapers spoke gravely of the outlook. One day he looked up quickly and said, "I want to go--I want to help the British Empire--while there is a British Empire!" And then I realized that my boy, my boy, had suddenly become a man and had put away childish things forever. I shall always be glad that the call came to him, not in the intoxication of victory, but in the dark hour of apparent defeat. CHAPTER III LET'S PRETEND Let's pretend the skies are blue, Let's pretend the world is new, And the birds of hope are singing All the day! Short of gladness--learn to fake it! Long on sadness--go and shake it! Life is only--what you make it, Anyway! There is wisdom without end In the game of "Let's pretend!" We played it to-day. We had to, for the boys went away, and we had to send our boys away with a smile! They will have heartaches and homesickness a-plenty, without going away with their memories charged with a picture of their mothers in tears, for that's what takes the heart out of a boy. They are so young, so brave, we felt that we must not fail them. With such strong words as these did we admonish each other, when we met the last night, four of us, whose sons were among the boys who were going away. We talked hard and strong on this theme, not having a very good grip on it ourselves, I am afraid. We simply harangued each other on the idleness of tears at stations. Every one of us had something to say; and when we parted, it was with the tacit understanding that there was an Anti-Tear League formed--the boys were leaving on an early train in the morning! * * * * *