Came the great day when [World War I] hostilities ended, and, and the world went mad, not the least of these were the people in our road. The whole neighbourhood seemed to gather outside in the street, even though it was November, and till late in the evening we were singing, dancing, ringing bells, banging anything that would make a noise,and a lad called Robbie, one of a large family who lived opposite us, had a bugle which he blew loud and long. Bedtime was forgotten for once, but in the midst of this happy din, the front door of [pacifist] “Mr. Labourite” opened, and out he stormed, demanding to know what the racket was all about and for how long it was going on. He was a brave man, daring to face all those servicemens’ wives, but they were in a joyous mood, the war was over and their men would soon be home, so Mr “L” was shouted down good humouredly, “Shut up, get back indoors, mizzer” and so on, and the jollifications continued till we were tired out.