"Damn the torpedoes!" I shouted back as I disappeared into the
pleasant security of the sun-warmed woods.
_May 11th._ "What navy do you belong to?" asked an Ensign, stopping me
to-day, "the Chinese?"
"Why do you ask, sir?" I replied, saluting gracefully. "Of course I
don't belong to the Chinese Navy."
"What's your rating?" he snapped. "Show girl first class attached to
the good ship Biff! Bang! sir," came my prompt retort.
"Well, put a watch mark on your arm, sailor, and put it there pronto,
or you'll be needing an understudy to pinch hit for you."
As a matter of fact I have never put my watch mark on, for the simple
reason that I have been rather expecting a rating at any moment, but
it seems as if my expectations were doomed to disappointment.
Nothing matters much, anyway, now, however, for I have been selected
from among all the men in the station to play the part of a Show Girl
in the coming magnificent Pelham production, "Biff! Bang!" At last I
have found the occupation to which by training and inclination I am
naturally adapted. The Grand Moguls that are running this show came
around the barracks the other day looking for material, and when they
gazed upon me I felt sure that their search had not been in vain.
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