was a tree-mendus explosion and I went up what seamed to me
about a thousand feet. On the way down, I met Skinny going up, he
yelled out to me, "I'll bet you five bucks that I go higher than you
did." Skinny is some sport.

Some of our training officers has seen active service in the front
line trenches. Yesterday was visiting day in camp; after drill, as
pretty a "Jane" as I have seen in this neck of woods asks one of 'em
did he croak a Fritz, while on the other side? "I sure did," sed he
"with this mighty rite hand." Whereupon, this "bunch of peeches" grabs
his hand and kisses it. Skinny 'lowed as how _he_ would have told her
he bit him to deth. That's Skinny, he's strong for the "Janes." Don't
peeve up Julie, a lot of 'em down here fall for me, but I let 'em
lay; exceptin for a few I've saw, you have 'em all lashed to the mast
howlin fur mercy.

Seems to me like we don't do anything down here but walk. It's a
wonder to me that all of us don't walk in our sleep. I was telling
Skinny we should have joined the cavillry, but Skinny said no; He
'lowed as how if he ever had to retreat he didn't want to be bothered
with no horse.

Yours truly and affectionately,

BARNEY.

[Illustration: "I'll bet 5 bucks I go higher than you."]

Dere Julie:

Many thanks for the pink silk piejamas, with the red ribbon ties.
Skinny sez they are "a thing of beauty and a joy forever." It don't
take much to make Skinny poetical. When the Sarge got a lamp at 'em he
sed "they would move _anyone_ to poetry, if he didn't "do the Dutch"
first."

I'm afraid the Pres. is not running this trainin biz rite. What's
the use of wisin up this big bunch of guys, when one company of cooks
could wipe out the Fritzies in twenty four hours, if they can get 'em
to eat some of the stuff they wish onto us. We have seventeen kinds of
meat everyday--hash. That's all rite. We can stand fur that, but when
they put raisins in it on Sunday and call it puddin, good nite, its
enough to make a feller bat 1000 in the booze league.

Speakin of shufflin off reminds me that Skinny 'lows as how we ought
to make our wills before we hit the briny trail. The only WILL I'm
worried about Julie, is WILL I cum back? And that's no Bullsheveki,
fur you know derie when one of them tin fish strikes a transport, yer
jest as well let your voice fall. Say Julie, I'm not fur this country
down here a-tall. It has ticks; chiggers and nats all open fur biz
at one and the same t