"
"I know, my child," the mother said. "The parting makes me sad,
But go you must away and fight the war.
At least you will not live to drink as much as did your dad--
So here's your lid, my lad, and there's the door."
Then as he turned away
He heard her softly say:
CHORUS
"The sailors I have ever loved. I'm glad my lad's a gob,
Although it seems to me he's much too dumb.
But after all perhaps he isn't such an awful slob--
I always knew that Kaiser was a bum!"
_Aug. 9th._ The best way to make a deserter of a man is to give him
too much liberty. For the past week I have been getting my dog Fogerty
on numerous liberty lists when he shouldn't have been there, but not
contented with that he has taken to going around with a couple of
yeomen, and the first thing I know he will be getting on a special
detail where the liberty is soft. I put nothing past that dog since he
lost his head to some flop-eared huzzy with a black and tan
reputation.
_Aug. 10th._ All day long and a little longer I have been carrying
sacks of flour. The next time I see a stalk of wheat I am going to
snarl at it. This new occupation is a sort of special penance for not
having my hammock lashed in time.
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