With the lurid light and the broken road in the foreground, and the hurrying figures carrying their rifles, it was just like a scene on the stage.
The stars were always a great comfort to me.

Above the gun-flashes or the bursting of shells and shrapnel, they would stand out calm and clear, twinkling just as merrily as I have seen them do on many a pleasant sleigh-drive in Canada.

I had seen Orion for the first time that year, rising over the broken Cathedral at Albert.

I always (p.

144) felt when he arrived for his winter visit to the sky, that he came as an old friend, and was waiting like us for the wretched war to end.