'If your gord wants that car moved, let him move it hisself,' was the reply of the old soldier.
He made an excellent custodian of the cemetery garden, which was made up chiefly of pots of ornamental plants. Clean and trim in his own person, he kept the grounds as neat and tidy as a barrack square, and was entirely in sympathy with the chaplain's love of order. One day in a burst of confidence and admiration he said:
'His Reverence likes to have everything in order. You should see him dress the pots of a morning when he comes down here to look round.'
Gibbs lies buried in the cemetery. His epitaph might very well be the same as that which is written on a tomb in Syria over the grave of a Greek Christian: 'I lived well; I die well; I rest well. Pray for me.'
