_March 18th._ There is something decidedly wrong with me as a sailor.
I got my pictures to-day. Try as I may, I am unable to locate the
trouble. There seems to be some item left out. Not enough salt in the
mixture, perhaps. I don't know exactly what it is but I seem to be a
little too, may I say, handsome or, perhaps, polished would be the
better word. I'm afraid to send the pictures away because no one will
believe them. They will think I borrowed the clothes.
_March 19th._ A funny thing happened last Sunday that I forgot to
record. A girl had her foot on the fence and when she took it down
every one yelled, "As you were." Sailors have such a delicate sense of
humor. Well, that's about enough for to-day.
_March 20th._ We had a lecture on boats to-day. The only thing I don't
know now is how to tell a bilge from a painter. The oar was easy. It
is divided into three parts, the stem, the lead and the muzzle. I must
remember this, it is very important. The men are getting so used to
inoculations around here that they complain when they don't get
enough. We're shaping up into a fine body of men, our company
commander told us this morning, and added, that if we continue to pick
up cigarette butts several more weeks we'll be able to stack arms
without dropping our guns.
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