see. They did not expect to reach it themselves; theirs was only that far-off Pisgah-view of it; but they were touched with pride in the thought that they were privileged to give their lives that through them it might remain an inheritance for the generations yet to come. This was all that mattered, and for themselves—
My day was happy—and perchance
The coming night is full of stars,
writes Richard Dennys, in one of his Ballads of Belgium, and in another,
Death flies by night, Death flies by day,
He calls the gay, he calls the sad,
And if he summon me away,
Be sure my going will be glad.
Life had not offered an easy road to Major John E. Stewart; from his boyhood he had fought bravely against poverty and circumstance and won by hard work every honour that came to him. He proved his capacity at school, took his M.A. degree at Glasgow University, and settled down as a teacher at Langloan Public School, Coatbridge. But within a month of the declaration of war he saw his duty clear,
