"Hello, Buddy!" was the way she greeted the Jimmy-legs of my barracks
after I had introduced her to him with much elaboration. This
completely floored the poor lad, and rendered him inarticulate. He
thinks now that I come from either a family of thugs or maniacs,
probably the latter. I succeeded in shaking the old thing for a while,
and when I next found her she was demonstrating the proper method of
washing whites to a group of sailors assembled in the wash room of one
of our most popular latrines. She was heading in the direction of the
shower baths when I finally rounded her up. She was a game old lady.
I'll have to hand her that. Her wildest escapade was reserved for the
end of her visit, when I took her over to the K. of C. hut, and she
challenged any sailor present to a game of pool for a quarter a ball.
When we told her that the sailors in the Navy never gambled she said
that she was completely off the service, and that she thought it was
high time that we learned to do something useful instead of singing
sentimental songs and weaving ourselves into intricate figures. This
remark forced us to it, and much against our wills we proceeded to
show the old lady up at pool.
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