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Smith Jr., J. Thorne

"Biltmore Oswald The Diary of a Hapless Recruit"

Nakedness is the most
democratic of all institutions. Knock-knees, warts and chilblains,
bowlegs, boils and bay-windows are respecters of no caste or creed,
but visit us all alike. These profound reflections came to me as I
stood with a large gathering of my fellow creatures in the offices of
the physical examiner.
"Never have I seen a more unpromising candidate in all my past
experience," said the doctor moodily when I presented myself before
him, and thereupon he proceeded to punch me in the ribs with a vigor
that seemed to be more personal than professional. When thoroughly
exhausted from this he gave up and led me to the eye charts, which I
read with infinite ease through long practise in following the World
Series in front of newspaper buildings.
"Eyes all right," he said in a disappointed voice. "It must be your
feet."
These proved to be faultless, as were my ears and teeth.
"You baffle me," said the doctor at last, thoroughly discouraged.
"Apparently you are sound all over, yet, looking at you, I fail to see
how it is possible."
I wondered vaguely if he was paid by the rejection. Then for no
particular reason he suddenly tired of me and left me with all my
golden youth and glory standing unnoticed in a corner.


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