A LONELY SOLDIER

Dominion, Volume 11, Issue 256, 17 July 1918, Page 6

A LONELY SOLDIER

' HOW HE FOUND FRIENDS STORY OF A DASH TO BLIGHTY (By "Sylvius.") He was not lonely at all, to begin with. Hut ho had heard a great deal about "lonely soldier" stunts, and when he dropped into a colonial soldiers' "coffee and bun emporium" in Blighty's biggest city, and saw tho Girl, young and pretty, eyeing him with .1 certain wistful interest, lie concluded thai right tJioro and then was the place and time, to if there was anything in the business. She was pretty enough to try it on, and smart enough, too, to put liini right if the "lonely soldier" gadget proved to be cheap fiction for the trenches. So ho smiled, and got one back. His mind was made up. "Have some more coffee, do!" s.aid the girl, coming forward brightly. "No,' thanks. Miss," "ho said, with melancholia deeply rooted in the bass voice. "Something moro to eat, then?'' she persisted. "No, thanks—really, no. Don't feel too good!' he murmured. "Oh, I'm so sorry—have you been wounded?" she inquired with a glistening eye. "No, miss, not yet!" he replied. "Gassed?" "Lor', no, miss. Gas turns you yel-lowy-green, if it doesn't snuff you right out. Tin healthy as far as war is concerned," and he sighed as though regretting his good fortune. "I thought you seemed a bit downcheer up!" Her cheery manner brought the ghost of a smile to the faco of the deceiver. "I am a bit down. I tell you what it is—l'm just, lonely. Don't know anyone in all this big city, and it gets me down!" "A lonely soldier?" she inquired, with quizzical sympathy. "Yes, if you put it that way!" "Do you know," said the Girl, "with all the romantic stories written round the subject, I've been wondering whether there was such a person. I've been helping here for two whole months now, and'all tho t»ys who come here seem to have any number of friends and relatives. and are not a bit lonely!" "Ah, but I'm from New Zealand, and wo. don't know many people here!" ho replied, with the subtlety of a serpent valiantly determined that the Girl, should not be cheated of her lonelv soldier. "Ah, yes, that's a long way off, isn't it? But you seem to speak good English!" she said. "Some of us do—we pick it up quickly when we're in England!" And he nearly laughed. • "Well, 1 do hope you won't be lonoly long. I would like to try and make you less lonely while yon ni'e here. You • don't mind mo talking like this, do you ?" "Not at all—what about the matinee at the 'Hipp' to-morrow afternoon?" said the Lonely One, with a sudden effort to get on with the game. Ho Jialf expected that this was tho point where the girl would decide that Loneliea were a bold lot. "That would be lovely—all tight, tomorrow afternoon. We'll meet here at two. Now, try and cheer up a bitremember, you've got at least one friend in London!' lie saluted and left, feeling just a little mean because his ruse had worked so well. Still, he argued with himself that, after all, he was in a strange city, and really was lonely whikt he kept away from his friends. Besides she had that tempting — "Ah, there you aro! I began to think you wouldn't come," she chirped as ho drew up to salute the girl promptly at 2 p.m. the next day. "Always keep appointments, Miss, especially this sort!" The last words slipped out before he knew what he was saying, and she "eyed him a little queerly, with slight pain behind the blue of her eyes. But he recovered himself quickly. ' "Yes, I like the theatre, especially the vaudeville, where you see all sorts of clever people, all within an hour or so!" The girl's brows® cleared at once, and she began to chatter of the strange people who drew monarchs' salaries by making others lnugh or lament, and told him of the many theatres that Londonhad, and how long runs were the fashion since tho war. So they went to the Hippodrome—front stalls, too—and Private Lonely bought the girl chocolates, and she told him all ahput the artists and their divorce 'suits. Alter a perfectly delightful time they wandered forth into the garish daylight, and she said that she knew of a capital place to get a and with those wiles common to nice girls she led him to a brown stone house with an oaken door at the 'top of half a dozen gi'anito steps. "What—where—whyhe spluttered .incoherent!}', I "Opening tho door with a, latch key; she invited Private Lonely to step inside. Ho responded gingerly. "Mother!" she called festively up the broad stairs. "Here's someone to see you!" ■ "What! At this time!" said a plainly agitated voice from above. There was a rustle of silk skirts, and down the stairs came a stately old' lady, trying to conceal her'surprise as she felt for her glasses. She gradually focused her full attention on the bronzed tace of Private 'Lonely. "Ma," volunteered the gir), "this is my 'lonely soldier.' I caught him all'by myself!" "Really, dear, 1 don't understand," said the now agitated dame. "Don't you? Come round on thy side," she said, guiding her nether towards the door, and so allowing the light; to fall upoa Privato Lonely's bronzed features. "Allow me to introduce you—your nephew, Air. James , from New Zealand—your aunt, Mrs. John —1" Private Lonely staggered back until his spine came in contact with the staii post. "What the —. How on earth did you know?" he stammered, flushing scan', let. "Now, Private Lonely, don't get a scare," said the girl, fearing a holt./"We received a cable from uncle—your father —saying that you had got 'Blighty' leave and to look out for youi; so I told all the girls at the coffee stall to look! out for you!" "Still, I don't understand lion they !" "Don't you? Look at the, writing in the lining of your cap. Arai'l; wo smart? Come on, cousin, let's bo lonelj some more! Knew you all the time— that's why I smiled so sweetly." "Well, I'm d——tl!'''