onument, too. Then out a long street lined
with nice, comfortable-lookin' homes, until you get a glimpse of blue
hills rollin' away as far as you can see, and there you are.

The boys piloted us past the guard at the gates, through a grove of
trees, and left us at the information bureau, where a soldier wearin'
shell-rimmed glasses listened patient while mother and sister both
talked at once.

"Bliss? Just a moment," says he, reachin' for a card-index box. "Yes,
ma'am. Wilfred Stanton. He's here."

"But where?" demands Mrs. Bliss.

"Why," says the soldier, "he's listed with the casuals just now.
Quartered in the cow-barn."

"The--the cow-barn!" gasps Mrs. Bliss.

The soldier grins.

"It's over that way," says he, wavin' his hand. "Anyone will tell you."

They did. We wandered on and on, past the parade ground that used to be
the trottin' track, past new barracks that was being knocked together
hasty, until we comes to this dingy white buildin' with all the
underwear hung up to dry around it. I took one glance inside, where the
cots was stacked in thick and soldiers was loafin' around in various
stages of dress and undress, and then I shooed mother and sister off a
ways while I went scoutin' in alone. At a desk made out of a
packin'-box I found a chap hammerin' away at a typewriter. He salutes
and goes to attention.

"Yes, sir," says he, when I've told him who I'm lookin' for. "Squeaky
Bliss. But he's on duty just now, sir."

I suggests that his mother and sister are here and would like to have a
glimpse of him right away.

"They'd better wait until after five, sir," says he.

"I wouldn't like to try holdin' 'em in that long," says I.

"Very well, sir," says he. "Squeaky's on fatigue. Somewhere down at the
further end of the grand stand you might catch him. But if it's his
mother--well, I'd wait."

I passes this advice on to Mrs. Bliss.

"The idea!" says she. "I wish to see my noble soldier boy at once.
Come."

So we went. There was no scarcity of young fellows in olive drab. The
place was thick with 'em. Squads were drillin' every way you looked, and
out in the center of the field, where two or three hundred new
ambulances were lined up, more squads were studyin' the insides of the
motor, or practicin' loadin' in stretchers. Hundreds and hundreds of
young fellows in uniform, all lookin' just alike. I didn't wonder that
mother couldn't pick out sonny boy.

"What was it that man said?" she asks. "Wi