"Travellers on a suburban railway line that runs through our most fashionable district are intensely interested in a man who travels daily, and on entering a first-class carriage, instead of gluing his eyes to a daily paper, as is the way of the ordinary male, calmly opens his brief bag, takes out his knitting, and, supremely unruffled as to what any other occupant of of the carriage is thinking about it, proceeds to purl and plain at a speed [knitting socks for soldiers] that puts to shame the most expert of feminine knitters.

"Such magnificent bravery is wasted. For the man who can with equanimity sit out the stares and giggles of the travelling public ought to be a major-general in command of an army. His nerve must be superbly cast iron.

"Though not eligible for active service, he is helping things along in other ways, and this is one of them. More power to him. May he never run out of wool. And if a few of the younger men, who prefer race meetings and football matches to rallying round the colours, were to follow his entirely admirable example, it would be very much to their credit. The fact of their feet being of the 'cold' order would not be so no noticeable did they help to keep the feet of braver men warm."