It was led by a young prophet--a football half-back or whatever they are called, though I, who prefer thoroughness, would, if I played football, offer up the whole of my back to bear the brunt--who saw visions of Teutonically-conceived angels with wings, who heard "voices," was in constant communication with the Redeemer of Mankind and on familiar terms with God, had a lovely tenor voice and moved emotional men and hysterical, love-sick women to tears, even to bellowings by his prayers and songs.

He had for some weeks been confined in publicity to half-contemptuous paragraphs in the South Wales Press.

Then the _Daily Chronicle_ took him up.

Their well-known, emotional-article writer, Mr.Sigsbee, saw "copy" in him, and--to do him justice (for there I agreed with him)--a chance to pierce the armour of the hand-in-glove-with-Government distillers, so went down to Wales to write him up.

For three weeks he became more interesting than a Cabinet Minister.