yseepah." Well, we didn't ever here
of the poor boob, so we went over onto the next Rue (make that Julie.
I'm getting along fine), and we runs slap bang! into a other funeral
more elegant than the first; and Skinny not wantin to let anything get
by him, again asked the name of the guy ridin in the head waggin and
he got the same answer "Monsewer Jennyseepah." "Yer a liar," yelled
Skinny, "we just saw _his_ funeral on the other street." Well, Julie,
I don't blame Skinny, I was a little sore myself on the way this guy
tried to string us.

[Illustration: Me an' Skinny seen the toom of Napoleon the Wunst.]

We got along seem the sights without much trouble; the toom of
Napoleon the Wunst, the bridge over the Sane, the 4th of July colum
and Champ de Lizzie; feelin hungry we drifted into a swell lookin
feedin place with good lookin she waiters. Now don't be nervous Julie,
there ain't nothin gonna happen with me and them Jane's; for believe
you me star of my heart, I don't _care_ what anybody says to me, but
you can bet every dollar that Hetty Green ever gave to charity, that
when I do marry, I'm gonna get a dame who bawls me out in language
that I understand. Well, luckily we struck a she waiter who spoke
a little American; to put it as she said "I speek a leetle of what
Monsewer calls ze Anglaise." The first thing we ordered was soop. The
Jane brought it in a bowl and had her thum jabbed into it, when Skinny
pointed to her thum in the soop, she grinned and sed "Zats all rite,
Monsewer, it is not hot." We got along very well (considerin that
Skinny kept her mind offen her business by trying to send her a eye
wireless) and got down to the desert. You know me Julie, Me for the
good old fashioned pies like my ol' lady makes. Gettin a lamp at what
looked like a juicy huckleberry pie, I pointed to it and said in my
company tone of voice "Please give me a big dose of that huckleberry
pie." Puttin on her prettiest smile and rollin her eyes, and arching
her shoulders she cum back with "if Monsewer will pleese brush off ze
flies, he will find it is custard pie--NOT ze huckleberry."

Its a good thing we are leaving to-morrow to go toward the front for
if we staid round her long the moral of our regiment would stand at
about zero minus 5.

Yours until they chase the Kaiser to Holland with the balance of the
windmills.

BARNEY.

On the Hike Nowhere in France.

Dere Julie:

There shure is a bunch of widows over here, Both