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Smith Jr., J. Thorne

"Biltmore Oswald The Diary of a Hapless Recruit"

"How
are you off for socks?"
"Splendidly," I said in a hoarse voice. A girl behind me snickered.
"And have you that liniment to rub on your stomach when you have
cramps?" she went on ruggedly.
"Enough to last through the Fall season," I replied in a moody voice.
I didn't tell her that Tim the barkeep had tried to drink it.
"Polly!" suddenly exclaimed Mother. "Polly! Why, I forgot to tell you
that she said that she would be up this afternoon. She must be here
now."
The world swam around me. Polly was my favorite sweetie.
"Oh, Mother!" I cried reproachfully, "how could you have forgotten?"
At that moment I heard a familiar voice issuing from the corner, and
turning around, I caught sight of the staff reporter of the camp
paper, a notoriously unscrupulous sailor with predatory proclivities.
He had gotten Polly in a corner and was chinning the ear off of her.
As I drew near I heard him saying:
"Really it's an awful pity, but I distinctly remember him saying that
he was going away on liberty to-day. He mentioned some girl's name,
but it didn't sound anything at all like yours."
Polly looked at him trustfully.
"Are you sure, Mr.----"
"Savanrola," the lying wretch supplied without turning a hair.


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