the engineer said to me, "You're serving Mass tomorrow."

"Right, sir," said I.

"You'll be able to read the Latin all right?"

"Certainly.I won't say 'Pate-er' or 'Mate-er' the way the Eng-
lish do, but I don't suppose the priest will mind."

"You're an impudent pup.What do you say, then?"

" 'Paht-er' and 'Maht-er.' "

"You remind me of my mother.She used to say 'Patterand
Avvy,' and I thought for years that it was all one word.You can
have a run over the prayer book, beforehand. Get one out of the
chapel, if you haven't one of your own, and look over the Mass
this afternoon."

It was a hot afternoon, and the sun shone in the height of sum-
mer.

After dinner we walked round or lay out on the grass. The
blokes were too hot to kick a ball about.

Far away, I could see the sea, in the distance, and the sun glit-
tering off it. I am a strong and fearless swimmer, but the beach
was out of bounds because of mines and we were forbidden to go
within a quarter-mile of it.

Joe and Jock and Charlie and Chewlips and I sat behind the
laundry.Joe and Jock were giving out the Mass, from the book,
and I was answering it.

"Introibo ad altare Dei..." "I will go unto the altar of
God ..."

"Ad Deum Qui laetificat juventutem meam...""To God
Who giveth joy to my youth ..."

"Confiteor tibi in cithara.Deus Deus meus; quare tristis es,
anima mea, et quare conturbas me?" "To Thee, O God, my
God, I will give praise upon the harp; why art thou sad, oh my
soul, and why dost thou disquiet me?"

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