September 07, 1918 


 A suspicious-looking stranger came to live in a village in the country a few months ago.  He took a house but never bought any furniture, and he hardly ever went out in the daytime.  When he met anybody in the road he held his head down or hid his face.  The Boy Scouts naturally kept their eyes on him, and finally reported him to the police.  But the police only thought he was a bit odd in his mind and laughed at the Scouts’ suspicion. 

 But the Scouts continued to watch - not only by day but by night as well - even through long, wintry, wet nights.  He had boarded up all the lower windows of his house. 

 One day when he was out the Scouts got a ladder and got in at a window at the upper storey and found the rooms empty except for one old bedstead and a big pile of shavings and a bottle that seemed to be full of varnish.  They reported it to their Scoutmaster.  Not long afterwards the house caught fire and was burnt to the ground, and the man put in a claim to the Insurance Society for 5000 pounds to repay him for the furniture that was burnt. 

 But the Scouts were called in as evidence and were able to show that he had no furniture at all.  While the case was going on he was caught steeling luggage at a railway station and was sentenced to five years penal servitude - otherwise he would probably have got a pretty heavy punishment for trying to defraud the Insurance Company. 

 The Company were, of course, very pleased with what the Scouts had done and offered to give them a reward, but, of course, the Scouts said "No, thank you";  it was their duty to do good turns and to help the police where they could. 

 In this case they did it jolly well. 


September 14, 1918 


 The rotting of the trees and of the tree ferns and other jungle has formed coal in many parts of New Zealand.  When King George, as Prince of Wales, visited New Zealand, an archway made of coal was put up in his honor, and on it was written "The coal which saved H.M.S Calliope." 

 You probably remember how the British man-of-war Calliope was anchored in the harbour at Apia in Samoa (not so very far from New Zealand) when a hurricane came out of such terrible force as to cause even big ships to break loose from their moorings and get wrecked. 

 The Calliope managed to get up steam and to force her way out to sea while the German and American men-of-war were unable to do so and foundered with all hands. 

 Before they went down they gave the Calliope a cheer in her gallant effort to get free.  And she succeeded - thanks to her New Zealand coal.  She now lies as a drill ship for Naval Volunteers at Newcastle-on-Tyne in England. 

 By the way I heard someone read her name as the "Sally-ope" thinking that that was the right way to say it; so don’t make a mistake - it is pronounced "Kal-I-opee." 


September 21, 1918 


 Now’s the time while there’s warmth in the air and the water, to practise it.  I’ve known lots of fellows pick it up the first time they tried; others take longer.  I did myself-I couldn’t at first get the hang of it.  In my heart of hearts I think I really funked the water a bit, but one day getting out of my depth, I found myself swimming quite easily.  I had made too much of an effort and a stiff struggle of it before-but I found the way was to take it slowly and calmly and occasionally to get down and swim under water with my eyes open.  I got to like the water, and swimming on the surface became quite easy.  Some fellows who are a little shy of water are inclined to say, "What’s the good of swimming, anyway?  My work, or play, doesn’t take me in that direction."   

 Well, there is jolly good fun in bathing-but ever so much more if the bathing includes a swim.  What a fool the fellow looks who has to paddle about in shallow water and can’t join his pals in their trips to sea or down the river.   

 But there’s something more than fun in it. 

 If you go boating or sailing it is not fair on the other chaps to do so if you can’t swim.  If the boat capsizes and all are swimmers, it is rather a lark; but if there is a non-swimmer there the others have to risk their lives to keep him afloat. 

 Then, too, there comes the awful time when you see someone drowning.  If you are a swimmer in you go, get hold of him the right way, and bring him ashore; and you have saved a fellow creature’s life.  But if you can’t swim?  Then you have a horrible time.  You know you ought to do something better than merely run calling for help  while your fellow creature is fighting and struggling for his life and gradually becoming weaker before your eyes.  I won’t describe it-it is a horrible nightmare; and will be all the more horrible to you for the rest of your life when you think that it was partly your fault that the poor fellow was drowned.  Why your fault?  Because if you had been a true Scout you would have learnt swimming and would have been able to save him. 

Tommy sees all of them happy but him,

They are playing and diving - but Tommy can't swim.



 Here is another reason for learning.  You never know when it may not be of the greatest use to you.  Private Albert Bateman, of the Manchester Regiment, was captured by the Germans, in the war, and was made to work as a prisoner in their carbide works.   

 After being captured by the Germans, Bateman and about 1,000 other men were marched under cavalry escort for nearly twenty miles without food or drink.   

 "Those who fainted or dropped out,"  said Bateman, "were just dragged aside on the road.  We were all shut up in cattle trucks-sixty men in a truck, standing close as herrings-and left twenty-four hours boxed up like that without a soul coming near us to open the doors and let us out even for five minutes.   

 "One of the boys was so pulled down by long fighting and the want of food and the standing that he caved in. 

 "Afterwards we got scattered to different factories and camps.  Our usual food was one day a thin soup made of potatoes and turnips at 11 o’clock, and another a plate of the same at 5 o’clock, and a slice of bread.  Ten men had to share one loaf.   

 "Of course, they haven’t got much for themselves, either, the poor beggars.  The foreman of our factory was wearing boots a ragman wouldn’t pick up in England.  The best had only wooden clogs and were so dirty from want of soap that you could plant potatoes on their necks, so I left ‘em. 

 "Of course, I refused to work for them, and they lammed me with a stick and put me in a dark cellar and laughed at me, so I made up my mind to chance it and cut. 

 "Me and a London kid made a bee-line for the Rhine, which was twenty-six miles off.  Next night we got past the wire and the dogs and were just taking off our boots and socks on the water’s side behind a patch of corn when a shot went up.  So I called to this London kid.  ‘Jim,’ I said, ‘they’re after us.  So coom  on!’  And we jumped in. 

 "They were soon blazing away form the bank, and I heard the dogs howling, but I was the only one that got across.  I was three-quarters of an hour in the water and frozen to a stone, and the Swiss soldiers wrapped me up in blankets and mothered me. 

 "I learnt swimming in the Park Swimming Club at Sheffield, but never had no idea it’d come in so handy, for I would rather be dead at the bottom of the Rhine than have those Germans in the carbide factory where I was put to work messing about with me." 



September 28, 1918 


 Out of all the names that have been suggested for the Senior Scouts (I hate the word "senior," it reminds me so much of school) the term "Rovers" is the one that seems most popular.  So we have adopted it for Scouts over fifteen (preferably fifteen and a half) who have qualified as 2nd Class Scouts and are recommended by their Scoutmasters.  They can then be promoted to Rovers, either Sea Rovers or Land Rovers.  In the old days Sea Rovers were-not to put too fine a point upon it-Pirates!  But at any rate if somewhat dishonest they still were a happy, adventurous crew, full of pluck and go, and that’s what our Sea Scouts are. 

 A Land Rover is, of course, a bit of an explorer and adventurer, a chap who has to face difficulties and dangers on his own, and to take the rough with the smooth, to enjoy the sun and laugh at the storm-and that is the spirit in which every Scout works his way through life. 


This is a mate ( or Patrole Leader of Rovers ).  Note the two red stripes on his breast.  Rovers carry a thum stick in place of a staff, a badge on the front of the hat, red shoulder straps, and a Skene Dhu ( knife ) in the left stocking. 


October 05, 1918 


 "Save Our Scouts" is the cry of some of our Allies in the war. 

 These are Allies whose countries have been invaded and over-run by German or Austrian hordes.  Their inhabitants - men, women, and children - have been driven out of their homes both in Belgium, Serbia, and North-Eastern France, and they have had to take refuge in other lands. 

 There are lots of Boy Scouts among them, but, like true Scouts, they have made the best of a bad time and have tried to get together again and to re-form their Troops or to start new ones where they happen to be.  They want to keep up their Scouting and to be in touch with other Scouts. 

 Well, it is a difficult job for many of them; especially where they have lost father and mother, and possess very little money, they can not afford to set themselves up with Scout kit, club-rooms, trek-carts, and so on. 

 We other Scouts, who are not homeless, and who have not suffered at the hands of the enemy, want to help our less fortunate brothers. 

 Scouts all over the world are joining in sending their subscriptions to a Fund here at our Headquarters for this purpose. 

 I want to ask you Scouts and Patrol-leaders who read this, to help me in the matter. 

 Will you do a good turn, and carry out the Scout Law which makes you a Brother to every other Scout, and send along a penny or two, just to show your sympathy and good-will? 

 It will buck-up these unfortunate refugee Scouts to know that they have so many good friends. 

 I want to make it a subscription of pennies, not of pounds, to show how many thousands of Scouts are having a hand in it. 

 Already several thousands of pennies have come to the S.O.S. fund at 25, Buckingham Palace Road, London. 

 It will be best if Scoutmasters or Patrol-leaders will collect the pennies from individual Scouts, and send them in bulk, as this will save a considerable sum of money in postage, or two or three pals might send their contribution in one envelope. 



October 12, 1918 


 We had a letter from a Scout the other day telling us a woeful story about his bicycle.  It appears that a soldier, seeing the boy with a cycle, asked for the loan of it as his motorcycle had broken down and he had an important message to take.  

 The Scout, believing the man’s story and wishing to do him a good turn, lent the soldier his cycle, and went to the spot where the broken down motorcycle was supposed to be.  You can imagine his surprise when he found no cycle, and after waiting a long time for the return of the soldier, realized that his own bicycle had been stolen.  He went at once to the police and gave a description of the man, but so far, he hasn’t recovered his machine.  

 So Scouts take warning and be careful when lending your bicycle to strangers.  Personally, we think it would have been better for the Scout to have offered to go for help and to deliver the "important message"  on the way.  No soldier in a real difficulty would refuse such and offer.  



October 19, 1918 


 Where is the Crozat Canal?  Everybody was asking this question a short time ago, when the news from the Front was that the French had gallantly seized this point from the enemy. 

 It is not marked under that name on any map, and you could look as much as you liked for any place of that name as being near it; but the map did not show one.  The truth is, the canal is named after the man who made it, and not after any town. 

 I think it may interest Scouts to know that Antione Crozat, who lived about 200 years ago, began life as an errand-boy.  But he did his work jolly well, and gradually rose from one position to another, until he became a rich banker; and then he used his wealth on starting enterprises that would be useful to his fellow countrymen.  This canal was one of them. 

 He showed the right Scouting spirit, and some of our Scouts you know  -Beady-eyed Smith of the Plovers, or Knock-kneed Jones of the Lions-  will, some two hundred years hence, still be known in the world through the "Smith Canal," or the "Jones’ Free Camping-ground"!  What?  But you, Smith and Jones, have got to start out first to make yourselves successful! 



October 26, 1918 


 A boy of thirteen was waiting for a tram the other day when a woman came up to him and asked him kindly to hold her baby for a few minutes.  He did so, but it was for more than a few minutes.  An hour went by and the mother did not return. 

 I don’t know whether the lad was a Scout, but I hope he was.  At any rate, he behaved like one.  When he saw that his good turn was really a plant against himself he took the baby to the police station and reported what had happened.  And this is where his Scout-craft came in; when the police-sergeant asked him for a description of the woman, he described her so well, even down to the colour of her stockings, that the police were able to get on her track and in the end to arrest her, and she confessed she had tried to desert her child.  That boy would make a good Scout if he isn’t one already. 



November 2, 1918 


 The boy Scouts of Twin Falls, Idaho, in America, have sent to their brother Scouts in Great Britain the following greeting: 

 Boy Scouts of England,-We wish to extend to you a word of greeting, and to assure you of our sincere sympathy for you in your losses of the past three years and a half.  As much as we regret the suffering occasioned by this war, we cannot but be grateful for the lesson of unerring devotion to a high ideal that your people have given our people.  We feel that our boys will be better Scouts, our soldiers better fighters, our citizens better patriots, because of the new high standard established by the English people. 

 We Scouts are rendering to our Government every service in our power; in doing so we are inspired not only by love of country, but also the desire to serve England.  There is a feeling, stronger than the mere tie of military alliance, that binds us to you, a personal feeling that makes your problems our problems, your joys our joys, your sorrows our sorrows. 

 In devotion to the common cause, we remain, 
  Loyally yours, 
 The Boy Scouts of Twin Falls, Idaho. 

 Thus we have replied: 

 To the Boy Scouts of America, Twin Falls, Idaho,-I have only today received, through Mr. Breckenridge, your extremely kind letter of the 21st March enclosing a silken American Flag.  On behalf of the Boy Scouts of Great Britain I hasten to say that we most cordially appreciate your good will, and wish to offer our sincere thanks for your generous expression of it. 

 We feel that, though this war has brought so much horror and ruin in its train, some benefits may yet come of it, if only we seize the opportunity and use them.  One of these, and possibly the greatest, is that is has brought the American and British together in closer and more active comradeship than before.  The fathers and elder brothers of both nations are bound together by the comradeship of the battlefield.  Let us boys carry on that comradeship in peace as a memorial to the splendid work that they have done.  We Scouts in both countries are led by the same ideals, under the same badge and motto, we speak the same tongue, and are closely related, and we are now both working to back up our men in the common cause of right and justice. 

 Let us never forget this, and let us be good, reliable pals to each other for the rest of time. 



November 9, 1918 


 Hundreds of Scouts and, I suppose, all the Rover Scouts are anxious to get into the Royal Air Force.  But the R.A.F.  won’t take a fellow merely because he wants to get into it.  They want really good, healthy, active, courageous men.  A chap who has not got good nerves and a sound constitution is no good there, because he has to face some pretty sudden risks, and he has to go to tremendous heights in the air where any weakness of heart will find him out. 

 A good many airmen who have been accustomed to smoking find it an awful strain to do without a pipe or cigarette during a long flight and they have to take snuff in order to soothe the longing.  So a non- 
smoker scores because he does not feel the want of a smoke.  Also he has not weakened his heart or his nerve by the poison that tobacco gives out little by little, and thus he scores again over the fellow who has at any time oversmoked himself. 

 A lot of the best airmen don’t smoke, because, like Scouts, they are not such fools when they know the harm that it is likely to do them. 

 The examiners put you through some searching tests before they admit you into the R.A.F.  They prefer a fellow who is a good player of games, active and strong, and with the intelligence of a Scout.  Then they put him through four tests before doctors; one is to see if his health and eyesight are all right; the next is to see if his heart and lungs are sound-and it is here that many a smoker fails; then comes the examination of his nose, throat, and ears and nerves-and smoking has a bad effect on these in many cases.  The fourth doctor examines the candidate generally to see that no mistake has been make.  He tests very carefully whether you are jumpy or not-but a fellow with clean, healthy blood in him and who has not given way to the rotten temptations which some fellows give in to has every chance of passing into that splendid corps. 



November16, 1918 


 A thousand Scouts singing a song makes some sound, and we heard it not long ago at the Albert Hall, in London.  Scoutmaster A. Poyser had got together that number of Scouts to sing some of his Scouting songs, and the result was ripping-especially when they did some of the whistling choruses and hummed down to a whisper. 

 Another part of the show was done by about two hundred Wolf Cubs performing the howl and the jungle dance. 

 Then a brilliantly smart bit of physical drill and games was given by a troop under Scoutmaster Morgan (of headquarters), as good as anything I have seen by trained men. 

 This was followed by a first-class display by four troops of Sea Scouts, in which they rigged up derricks and hoisted cargoes ashore, the goods being checked in a book by a checking-clerk.  Another lot were doing a course of instruction in "The Rule of the Road at Sea," while others were sail-making, knotting and splicing, signaling with our commercial code flags and with lamps. 

 The whole affair wound up with an inspection by a Commissioner.  There was the troop and its band.  The Scoutmaster wanted a few to form a guard of honour to receive the Commissioner, but all the troop volunteered for it, and insisted on it, so that in the end there was a big guard of honour but no troop.  The Commissioner arrived half an hour late.  The Scouts who had been put out to watch for him rushed in to say he was coming, the band struck up the general salute, only unfortunately some of the bugles started before the others, and the drums began after the bugles had fairly started-a fine old mix up of a tune. 

 Then the Commissioner hurried in and walked round the ranks, talking hard to the Scoutmaster, never looking at the boys at all.  He made a high-falutin speech about nothing much in particular, and hurried off to catch the train. 

 Of course, this was just to show how an inspection should not be done.  It was followed by a more pleasing kind of inspection, where each patrol was at work under its Patrol Leader, one doing handyman work, another signaling, a third physical training, a fourth practising first aid, and a fifth learning bicycle riding and repairing, etc.  The inspecting officer paid them a visit, went round talking to the Patrol Leaders and Scouts and looking into what they were doing.  Then he had a circular rally to inspect them, an enrolment, and a few short, jolly remarks, and a really well-played salute as he went away. 

 I am a vice-president of the Boys’ Brigade, and have been to many displays given by boys at the Albert Hall, but I have never seen one so interesting and varied and so well performed as was this one by the Scouts.  I don’t say this because I like the Scouts, but because it is what I feel-and I have had some wonderful praised of it from others who were looking on. 



November 23, 1918 

 I am sure all Scouts are interested in flying, and I am certain that you like to hear stories of the brave deeds done by our airmen on active service.  The following are snatches from the daily routine of flying men. 


 A British two-seater was engaged on a flash reconnaissance, i.e., spotting, locating, and reporting hostile battery positions by their gun flashes, which can best be observed at dusk.  The pilot and observer had been at work about twenty minutes when suddenly, out of the gathering gloom, four Fokkers swooped down on them.  The British machine wheeled to meet the onslaught, and succeeded in avoiding the dive of the foremost enemy machine.  Then it became the focus of the gunfire of the four Fokkers, which circled round it. 

 Both pilot and observer returned burst for burst, so far as was possible for one machine against four, and the pilot by very skilful manoeuvring, managed to throw the enemy gunners off their mark, and so to escape vital hurt, though their machine was, of course, pretty well holed. 

 In addition, the English observer presently got in a thoroughly effective burst, and one Fokker, which went spinning earthwards, was lost to sight in the darkness.  (It was afterwards reported as having been seen to crash by another pilot.)  The remaining three Fokkers appeared to be too discomfited by the loss of their companion to face further chances themselves, and at once fled towards their lines, leaving the British machine to complete its job, which it did, despite the punishment it had taken before returning safely to its ‘drome. 


 During a counter-attack patrol the officers in a British aeroplane observed a German machine approaching, apparently on contact patrol duty, bent upon locating the exact position of the advanced British line. 

 The British machine prepared to engage the enemy, but the German machine carefully kept out of range.  Two more German ‘planes now appeared, but, in spite of their numerical advantage, they did not venture to attack. 

 Then, apparently, the first German machine gave up hope of getting over the British lines, and determined to gain an approximate idea of the position by getting the German infantry to disclose their exact location.  To this end, a white signal light was fired in the air.  The German infantry, in spite of the presence of the English machine, obediently put up flares all along their line. 

 As their exact position was not previously known, this afforded very valuable help to the English observer, who carefully pinpointed the position and returned with the information so obligingly furnished, with results exceedingly unpleasant for those who had furnished it.  The British gunners saw to that. 



November 30, 1918 


 Here is a bit of War work that Scouts and Wolf Cubs can do in their winter evenings.  It is to make up "joke books" for our soldiers at the Front. 

 You collect from The Scout and other newspapers or books any good jokes, funny pictures, or little stories.  Cut them out, and neatly paste them on to sheets of paper, and then bind these sheets into a little book with a cover of linen or cloth, not too big to go into the man’s pocket.  Write on the first page, "With best wishes, from _____" and sign your name, troop and address. 

 You can then send the book to a brother Scout in the Army, or we can do it for you if you send it to headquarters, 25, Buckingham Palace Road, London, S.W.1. 

 The soldiers love getting little books of this kind to while away odd moments in hospital; a few jokes do them a lot of good when they are tired and worn out with war or wounds.  So in this way you can do a jolly good turn to our brave men over there. 

 If you like to make some larger books-scrap albums-of the same kind, they would be most valuable in our Scouts’ huts at the Front when the men come for rest and refreshment.  We badly need a lot of such books for them to look through while resting in the huts.  So make them as fast as you can and send them along. 

 If you send them to headquarters we will forward them-and I should like to have a look at them myself before passing them on. 



December 07, 1918 

 An officer from the Macedonian Front told me recently one good thing about having been a Scout was that he and some other old Scouts, having learnt the value of bare knees and staves, resumed these for their work on the frontier among the mountains, and found both most helpful to them.  This was so much the case that other officers followed their lead, and now everybody is the happier for their use. 

 For mountain work and moving about over rough ground at night you can’t well do without a staff, so no true hillman is ever seen without one.  Then, if you are carrying a heavy pack, as you have to do in the backwoods, a staff is a great help; in boggy country it is invaluable; as a defence weapon it is better than a revolver, even in war, and  most certainly in peace and streets, etc. 

 I needn’t go into the many uses that a Boy Scout has for his staff; you know them well enough from the chart of staff work.  But once a man has got fond of a staff that has seen him through many adventures or jolly trips, he will never be happy without it. 



December 14, 1918 


Dear Scouts - Here we are round at Christmas time again, but this year it is a very different thing to what it has been in the last four years. 

 Then, though we were trying to be merry and bright, we all of us knew that our plucky fellows were suffering and dying away out there all the time, whilst we mothers and sisters were having troubles and sorrows here at home. 

 So our joy these last Yuletides was rather a sorry affair, and it isn’t always easy to keep the eighth Scout Law. 

 But this year we can fairly let ourselves go with delight, and you Scouts can do this better than most people because you know that you have all done your best and helped to finish the war in your own way. 

 I want to send a special message of greeting and thanks to the many Scouts I have seen at different times this year when I have been visiting Girl Guides at various places in the country. 

 I have been awfully struck and pleased over the friendly way in which Scouts have turned out to help the Guides at some of their parades and rallies, and I hope that next year will bring lots more opportunities for bringing us together still more. 

 My good wished to you all, 



December 21, 1918 


 You ask me to send you a Christmas message to the boy Scouts of England.  I am glad to have the opportunity of doing so, for there is no organisation in the world that interests me so much, or that in my opinion is more important as a school of manhood and national character. 

 I may be a bit prejudiced by reason of my love for all small boys.  I recognise, of course, that "Every boy is at heart either a pirate or a Red Indian."  I know this because the boys of my time were both.  That was long before the time when there were Scoutmasters to turn our animal spirits and restless activities in a useful direction.  We were so thoughtless, and more often devoted to "devilling" people than to helping them.  We were often a nuisance to our entire neighbourhood, and, I am sorry to say, we were not always kind to animals and birds.  

 We were happy in a way, but our lives were not satisfying.  We were not the least bit proud of ourselves-often quite the contrary.  You British Boy Scouts can know little of such conditions.  Therefore I am sure you can have little idea of how much yu owe to the wise heads and great hearts that have devised this wonderful Scout movement; and how much you owe to the faithful Scoutmasters who lead you, and who teach you how to make it a real pleasure to be helpful and courteous, to practise kindness to all persons and all living creatures, and to love honour, loyalty, and obedience. 

 This points you fair to the road to become really gentle, useful, honourable, and brave men-all through living a happy and well-ordered boyhood. 

 If I could become a boy again, I would certainly be a Scout.  My small sons, Billy and Ethan, are too young even for the grade of Tenderfoot, but you may be sure they will join you just as soon as they are old enough. 

 The Scouts of America obey your same laws, and carry out your same practices.  They are fine young chaps, and have the same excellent reputation with us as you boys have in England.  I hope you will be able to get in touch with as many of these Yankee Scouts as possible, in order that the good feeling and understanding between our two countries, now being so well fostered by your fathers, may be carried on by their sons.   



 December 28, 1918 

 We had a great honour done to us the other day.  The boy Scouts of Roumania sent us a flag.  It was presented to us at a meeting of the Twickenham Scouts by Major Teiusanu, of the Roumanian Boy Scouts.  You should have heard the cheers that the Twickenham Scouts gave him!  The major was dressed in the Roumanian Scout uniform, which consists of a brown shirt, dark blue breeches and hat, and a girdle-sash and neckerchief of light blue and brown.  He wore decorations for gallantry in the war, where he had lost an arm. 

 He told us some splendid stories of the bravery of the Scouts when their country was over-run by the Germans.  In one place a Scout rallied some soldiers, whose officer had been killed, and who were driven out of their position; by leading them to a counter-attack the boy managed to regain the post, and to hold it till more troops came to his assistance. 

 In another case some Scouts armed themselves with rifles and held a bridge during a heavy attack by the enemy, and when these brought a machine-gun to bear on it they charged out and captured the gun and used it themselves.  They were thus able to hold the place successfully.  The Scouts did valuable work as ambulance men and stretcher-bearers during the campaign, and when their small army was finally wiped up in the last corner of their country, through long, bitter months the Scouts set to work to make vegetable gardens, and thus grew enough food to feed both soldiers and poor people who needed it. 

 When there was an outbreak of typhus fever the Scouts volunteered for hospital duty, and among the first victims to the disease was one of these lads. 

 They are fine fellows those Roumanian Scouts, and they are very keen to know more about British Scouts.  They have a strange language of their own, but a good number of them know English, so if any of you British Scouts care to write to them (you can do so through Mr. Martin at Boy Scouts’ Headquarters, 25 Buckingham Palace Road), they will be glad to hear from you. 

 Some day, perhaps, some of you may be able to go to Roumania for a tramping camp with the Roumanian Scouts.  That would be "some" fun.