tea;
We'll catch hell to-night, but we'll get there all right; take that
little tip from me."
And Joe swung up in his saddle; I crawled in the trailer behind;
The train moved off with a groan and a squeak, for the midnight work
and the grind
Then Joe looked 'round as we started off, I could see his face all
alight;
"I got a letter from home," he said; "I'll read it to you to-night."
We pulled along through Dick Busch, through Fairy Court and Dell.
When word came back from the blokes ahead to give the nags a spell.
Joe slid outen his saddle, with a chuckle deep down in his throat,
An' he walked back to me, as gay as could be, and pulled the kid's
note from his coat.
Says he, "Listen, lad, for a kid it ain't bad--it's her birthday--she's
five to-night--
It's a ripping note this--she sends you a kiss--" and Joe, poor old
pal, struck a light.
He held up the kiddie's letter--we were laughin' a bit at the scrawl,
All warm inside with a feeling--well, you know what I mean, damn it
all!
When along come a German bullet, and Joe, he wavered a mite,
Then without a word he wilted down. They carried him West that night:
A bullet hole in his temple, by God, but clutching that letter tight.
I've forgot all me bloomin' duties, for me blood is boilin' with hate;
And I'll get that sniping rotter what drilled me pal through the pate.
I'll teach the dirty beggar how an Englishman sticks to his friend:
I'm saving a foot of cold steel for the rat--so help me God to the end.

----
HE OUGHT TO BE GOOD.
----

"Jim, I see that old Bill Boozum, from home, has been drafted."

"Well, Hank, he ought to pass out some nifty hand salutes, all right."

"How's that?"

"Why, look at the practice he's had in bending his elbow!"

Don't Forget that War-Risk
Insurance. February 12 is
Your last chance at it.

----
ARMY'S MOTOR ARMADA
TO BE 50,000 STRONG
----
Uncle Sam's Garages and Assembling Shops Demand
the Services of 150,000 Chauffeurs
and Repair Men
----