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BELIEVE YOU ME!
NINA WILCOX PUTNAM
AUTHOR OF "ADAM'S GARDEN," "THE IMPOSSIBLE BOY," ETC., ETC.
NEW YORK
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1919,
BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1919, BY THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
TO R. J. S.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I Ladies Enlist 11
II Pro Bonehead Publico 66
III Holy Smokes! 125
IV Anything Once 156
V Now is the Time 202
VI The Glad Hand 244
BELIEVE YOU ME!
I
LADIES ENLIST
I
I WASN'T going to make no statement about this here affair; and I
wouldn't even yet, only for our publicity man. The day the story leaked
he called me up in the A. M., which is the B. C. of the daytime, and
woke me out of the first perfectly good sleep I'd had since Jim pulled
that stunt and floored me so.
First off, I wouldn't answer the phone; but Musette stood by me with it
in her hand and just made me.
"For my sake, mademoiselle!" says she, just like she used to in our act
on the big time, which we played before I got into the dancing game.
"For my sake, mademoiselle," she says, "do not refuse to talk with the
publicity man!"
Well, when I heard who it was I seen some sense in what she says; so I
set up amid my black-and-white-check bed, which--believe you me--is as
up to date as my latest drawing-room dance. And I grabbed off the phone.
"Yes," says I in a fainting voice; "this is Miss La Tour. What is it,
please? I'm far from well."
"Cut out that stuff, Mary!" says a male voice. "This is Roscoe. I want
you to give out a statement about you and Jim splitting up."
"I _won't!"_ says I, very sharp. "Whatter yer think I am?" I says.
"That's nobody's business but our own!"
"Oh, ain't it, though?" says Roscoe, very sarcastic. "The biggest
parlor-dancing outfit in America busts up and you can't be seen, even,
for two whole days! The stage at the Royal ain't notified that your
piece is called off; the De-Luxe Hotel don't get no notice that you
ain't going to appear; and all the info' I could get when I called up
your flat is that you was gone out!"
"And so I was!" says I, indignant.
"Then I call up Jim's hotel and they say he's gone!" shouted Roscoe.
"Hell!" says he, forgetting that me and the telephone operator both was
ladies. "Hell! What kind of way is that to treat a guy you're paying
three thou. a year to for getting your picture in the paper every time
you sneeze?"
I didn't have any comeback about that, for there was certainly some
truth in what he says. But I wasn't to be put down so easy.
"I guess I know my business, Ros," I says, sharp, "or I wouldn't be
living in a swell flat on the Drive, all fixed up like a furniture shop,
with a limousine and two fool dogs, and earned every cent of it myself,
and no one can say a word against me, if I didn't know my own business.
So there!"
"Looka here, Mary," says Roscoe. "There's going to be a lot of talk up
and down the Rialto if you don't come across with some explanation. I'm
comin' right up to get it."
"No, you don't," I says, for I hadn't had my facial massage in three
days, and, after all, Roscoe is a man, even if press agents ain't
exactly human. "No, you don't, Ros!" I says. "If I gotter make some
statement, I'll write the dope myself and you can fix it up after--see?
It's a big story, but delicate, and I'm going to have no
misunderstanding over it."
"All right, Mary," says Ros. "But you get the stuff ready for the
morning papers. I'll be up for it."
Then he hung up and I knew I had to come across. Besides, Ma come in
just then; and while I may boss my press agent, and even sometimes my
partner and Musette and the two dogs, Ma sorter gets my goat. Ma had on
a elegant rose-silk negligee I give her; and as usual, she had it ruined
by tying a big gingham apron over it, which made her look the size of a
house, but sort of comforting. She stopped by the bed and set both her
hands on her lips--the way she does when she don't mean to be answered
back.
"Now, Mary Gilligan, you get right up and wash your teeth!" says Ma,
"and do your three handsprings and other exercises, decent and proper;
and then eat the breakfast I got cooked for you."
Funny thing, but Ma ain't got a mite of dramatic sense. I just can't
understand it, after her having been with the circus so long on the
trapeze, until she got too heavy after I come; and since then in the
wardrobe-end of the theater, and all. I ain't never been able to break
her in to none of the refinements of life, either, and she will go into
the kitchen for all I say; and some day I just know she'll call me
Gilligan in public. And a nice laugh that'll get!
But, anyhow, I usually do what she says, because Ma is a fine trainer;
and--believe you me--I wouldn't be able to hold on to Jim's neck and
swing out straight twenty times round, like I do--or did--only for her
and her keeping me on the job like she's done. The only other trouble
with Ma is, she can't seem to properly understand that it's my artistic
temperament which has brought in the cash--that and some good looks, and
me realizing that this refined parlor-dancing stuff would go over big.
Of course Jim's being able to wear a dress suit like he'd been born in
it has helped some, even aside from being such a fine partner; which
brings me back, as they say, to the tale.
Well, I done my exercise, and so forth, and then I had Musette bring up
the sofa, a elegant gilt one--for we got what Ma calls Looie-the-Head-Waiter
stuff in our parlor--to the window, so's I could lay and look dreamily
out over the autos on the Drive to the ships in the river; you know--the
German ships which have been taking out their naturalization papers, or
something. And, as I lay there thinking, I come to the conclusion that
if I told about the split I better tell all, including my own
enlistment.
Oh, how well I can now understand why many men enlist, having been
through it all myself! And how then they long to get out, and can't, and
realize that they was boobs! And how they learn that they weren't boobs
after all, once they got used to it! Do you get me?
Well, anyways, I decided to tell the whole story, which, of course,
begun at Ruby Roselle's party.
I think I don't hardly need to state that I don't generally go with that
Roselle crowd. No acrobatic dancer could and keep her health.
And--believe you me--every drawing-room dance act that is worth a
thousand dollars a week has acrobatics, and good sound acrobatics, as
its base. Well! As far as Ruby Roselle and her crowd is concerned, far
be it from me to pass any remarks. But any one in the theatrical line
will tell you that a girl which has made a reputation only on the color
of her hair and is not averse to tights don't have to lead the rigid
life of a first-class A-1 dancer, leaving out all judgments as to
character, which are usually wrong anyways.
But, having said that much, I will only add that I have never gone out a
lot, and seldom without Ma. And while champagne is not exactly a
stranger to me, owing to Jim and me always having to have it served with
our dinner at the Ritz each night--which any one with sense knows is all
publicity stuff and we never drink it--still, I'm not in favor of
champagne parties, which they generally end in trouble; and this one of
Ruby's was no exception.
Indeed, I wouldn't of gone in the first place only for us unfortunately
being on the same bill at the opening of the Superba Roof, which, of
course, being the big midnight show of the year, and the rest of the
leads all having accepted, and Ruby being in so strong with the
management, it would of been bad business policy to refuse.
When I pointed this out to Jim he couldn't see it at first, owing to me
never having gone on such parties; and nobody can say any different,
with truth. But the Superba contract was the biggest thing we had got
yet. And, coming on top of the twenty minutes in Give Us a Kiss, the
twenty minutes at the De-Luxe Hotel, the net profs. was pretty fair.
So, for once, we accepted an invite to one of Ruby's famous blow-outs.
Ruby Roselle's house was something wonderful, but not to my taste, there
being too much in it, besides smelling of cologne and incense, which,
from her singing Overseas in red-white-and-blue tights, was more or less
to be expected. Also, the clothes on her and the other girls was too
elaborate. My simple little real lace, and my hair, which Musette always
does so it looks like I done it myself, made them seem like a Hippodrome
production alongside of a play by this foreigner, Ib-sen--do you get me?
I was proud of this; for--believe you me--getting refinement means work,
just like any other achievement, and I had modeled myself on Mrs. Pieter
van Norden for years, than whom there is surely no one more refined by
reputation, though I had never seen her. I could see Jim felt the same
about all this, and we exchanged a look on it; for, besides being
engaged to be married we was the best of friends when we come in--when
we come in! Remember that!
After we said "How do ye do?" to Ruby, I whispered to Jim not to
celebrate too much. He ain't a drinking man if for no other reasons but
those of my own; but just oncet in a while he'd get a little more than
he should, and this opening night the show had gone awful big. Had he
but heeded me better! Alas! Nothing doing; it was all in vain!
For description of party see any motion-picture film on Vice. Why waste
words on what is so well known? And--believe you me--this was just like
a fillum; and, as I have said, nothing like that for mine, usually. But,
even so, we might of got off safe and home without no trouble--only for
Von Hoffman and the baby alligator.
It seems like this here Von Hoffman was stuck on Ruby; in fact, it was
him that suggested her singing Overseas in that fierce costume. Also, he
gave her the alligator, she having tried to pick on a present he
couldn't possibly get when he wanted to buy her something. But, being
German by descent, he had the efficiency to get it, anyways; and there
was the alligator at the party, about fifteen inches long, with a gold
collar and diamonds in the collar--and we at war!
Well, it seems this alligator hadn't eat since it come; and after Ruby
had a double Bronx and two glasses of champagne the memory of his
hunger began to worry her--do you get me? So she had him brought in and
set in the middle of the supper table on the orchids at two dollars per
each, which he sat on without moving while the crowd tried everything on
him, from olives to wine, with no success. The alligator seemed a awful
boob, for he just lay there like a stuffed one, which we knew he wasn't
on account of his not having eaten.
Well, Jim hadn't heeded me. I guess the truth must be told, though,
honest, he had took but very little; still, being unused to it, the
effect was greater--do you get me? And pretty soon he and this Von
Hoffman was kidding each other and that alligator something fierce.
Now Jim took a hate on this Von Hoffman bird the minute he laid eyes on
him, partly on account of the costume of Ruby, and also on general
principles, because of the bird's accent. But, the alligator not moving
or nothing, Jim asks if the alligator understands only German.
"In all probability," says Von Hoffman; "he is a high-class alligator."
"Then he ought to understand American," says Jim. "He'll have to
eventually; why not now?
"There's nothing to prove that," says the German bird with a sneer. "He
will probably get along very well as he is, with German only."
Jim looked mad as a hatter; but instead of taking it out on this Von
Hoffman, as he had ought to have, he turned on that poor dumb beast.
"Well," says Jim to the alligator, "here's where you learn some
patriotism."
And he leaned 'way across the table until his face was only an inch or
two away from the alligator's. Jim looked that animal straight in the
eye and spoke very severe.
"To hell with Germany!" says Jim.
And with that the alligator snapped--snapped right onto the end of Jim's
nose! Oh, my Gawd, but I yelled! So did Jim--believe you me! And then we
all tried to get that fiend of a pro-German alligator off Jim's face.
When they succeeded in making him let go you had ought to of seen Jim's
nose! It had four holes in it and was bleeding something fierce.
Oh, may I never live to see such a sight again, let alone having to go
through what followed! For once I forgot my refinement completely, and I
remember yelling at Jim to kill that German. For if he didn't sick his
alligator onto Jim, who did? And there he stood laughing at Jim for all
he was worth; and Jim never offered to fight him!
Believe you me, all my sympathy for Jim melted right away when I seen he
wasn't doing nothing but stand there holding on to his nose and moaning.
"I know alligator bites is deadly poison!" He kept saying it over and
over again, while Von Hoffman was laughing himself sick.
"I hope it is poison!" he says. "I hope it is, you jackanapes of an
American dancer!"
At this I walked right up to that Von Hoffman bird.
"I'll get you for this!" I says. "Somehow I know you're a wrong one, and
_I'll_ get you, even if Jim don't want to! I'd enlist to-morrow if I was
a man and get your old Kaiser as well!"
Then, the next thing I knew, me and Jim was in the limousine, on the way
to the hospital; and Jim was still moaning over being poisoned by the
alligator and getting blood all over the place, and the car just
relined and everything! I didn't say a word just then, because, of
course, you must stick to a pal in time of immediate trouble--do you get
me? But I was boiling mad inside, though worried a little about the
poison. Still, Jim's not hitting that bird, Von Hoffman, was worse to me
than death itself.
At the hospital the chauffeur and me got Jim inside somehow and to a
desk in the hall. There was a snappy-looking nurse sitting there with a
book, and our coming in at that hour no more worried her than a fly in
cold weather. She just looked up quiet and spoke--sort of unhospitable.
"Name of ailment?" she inquired.
"Alligator bite!" I told her, brief; and I will say this got her goat a
little, because she made me say it twice more before she would believe
me.
Then she directed us down a long hall, and a young guy in a summer suit
of white duck stopped reading the newspaper long enough to give Jim's
nose the once over.
"No cause for alarm," says this bird. "The nose will be about twice its
normal size for a day, that's all!" All! And, as if that wasn't enough,
he painted the nose and all round it with some brown stuff, which
stopped the bleeding but made Jim look like he was made up for some sort
of comedy act. Jim was perfectly sober by then and quit talking about
poison, and etc., and when he was back in the limousine I just let
myself go and bawled him out good and plenty.
"Now see here, Jim," I says, "I've stuck by you to-night long enough to
make sure you ain't goin' to die or nothin'; and now I'm through!"
"You been just fine, Mary," says Jim, trying to take my hand. I took it
away quick.
"You don't get me!" I says. "I mean I'm through for keeps. The
engagement is broken, and everything!"
"Whatter yer mean--broken?" says Jim, sort of dazed.
"Just that!" I snapped. "Here you get tight and take a insult from a
German; and, as if that wasn't enough, you go farther and get bit by a
pro-German alligator! And you don't even offer to fight the German who
owns the alligator, either! And, what's furthermore, you've got your
face swoll up so's you won't be able to dance to-morrow night; and that
iodine won't wash off; and the act is crabbed in the bud--do you get me?
Crabbed! And I'm through--that's all! So don't never come near me
again!"
Believe you me, Jim tried to make me listen to reason; but I couldn't
hear no reason to listen to, and so wouldn't let him say much. Then Jim
got mad and bawled me out for breaking my rule and going on the party,
and by the time we got to my place we wasn't speaking at all--not even
good night or good-by forever!
II
FOR hours and hours after Ma got me to bed I just lay there thinking and
aching and feeling all hot and ashamed and terribly lonesome, and with
my career all ruined because of the Germans--to say nothing of having
been obliged to become disengaged to Jim.
And then, just as I was nearly crazy wondering how I was to get my
self-respect back, I got a swell idea. I would enlist! Ladies could. I
remembered reading a piece in a newspaper some place about yeowomen or
something. And as soon as I realized that I could serve Uncle Sam and
help get even with that bird, Von Hoffman, and the Kaiser and the
alligator, and lose my personal feelings in public service, I got the
most wonderfully easy feeling round my heart and dropped right off to
sleep. But when I woke up in the morning it was something fierce, the
way I felt. Believe you me, it was just like I had ate Welsh rabbit the
night before, or something--the weight that was on my chest. At first I
couldn't make out just what it was. Then I remembered. I had lost Jim!
Of course I hadn't lost him so much as shook him; but it was all the
same, or looked that way in the cold gray dawn of ten A. M.
Honest to Gawd, I never knew how fond I was of Jim until I woke up that
day and realized he was gone forever! But I wouldn't of phoned him and
say I'd changed my mind--not on a bet I wouldn't. And, anyways, I hadn't
changed my mind. The evidences begun to pile up against him. I commenced
to remember how he had been away on some mysterious trips so many
afternoons for the last four or five months; and maybe with some blonde,
for all I knew. And then his going to pieces like that over a mere
alligator bite, the way he done; and, worst of all, not hitting that
German, even though in pain, and crabbing our act by getting bit on the
nose.
The more I thought about it, the worser I felt, laying there in
retrospect and negligee. And I couldn't see no way of us ever getting
together again--even when he called up and apologized; which, of course,
I expected he would do any minute. But he didn't; and by the time Ma
came in and routed me out of bed I had myself worked up so's I was
crying something terrible, and hating Jim as hard as I could, which
would of been enough to kill him--only for the pain in my heart for
loving him.
While I ate only a light repast of ham and eggs, and a little marmalade,
and etc., Ma made me tell her all; which I done the best way I could
with crying in between. And then I told her about me having made up my
mind to enlist. She was some surprised at that, though not much. Ma,
having lived through two circuses and a trapeze act, it is sort of hard
to surprise her very much--do you get me? So all Ma says was:
"Well, Mary Gilligan!" says she. "Can ladies enlist? I had a idea," she
says, "only gentlemen was permitted."
"No," says I. "I see a piece in the paper where ladies can go in the
navy--yeowomen they call them; a fancy name for a stenographer!"
"A whole lot too fancy!" says Ma, very prompt. "And no daughter of mine,
a decent, respectable girl, is going sailing off on no battleship with a
lot of sailors--not to mention submarines; not if I know it!" says Ma.
"So, Mary Gilligan, you may as well put that idea out of your head, let
alone you ain't a stenographer and couldn't learn it in a month."
"Well, Ma," I says, "maybe you're right; and I do get seasick awful
quick. But--oh, Ma! I got to enlist some place. Can't you see the way I
feel?"
Ma could.
"I know!" she says, very sympathetic. "I was the same when your pa
missed both the third trapeze and the life net. I would of enlisted when
he died if there had been a war. And, of course, you feel like Jim was
dead. How about the Red Cross?"
"Won't do for me," I says, prompt. "I don't see myself sitting around in
no shop, with a dust cloth tied over my head, selling tickets. I got to
do something active or I'll go bugs!"
Then Ma had a real idea.
"How about this here Woman's Automobile Service?" says she. "The one I
read you the piece about? You're a woman and you got a auto."
"Ma, you're a wonder!" I says. "Look up the address while I get my hat
on! Tell Musette to call for the limousine; and watch me make a trial
for my new job!"
So they done like I asked, and I kissed Ma and Musette good-by; also the
two fool dogs, for I had a sort of feeling like I was going into battle
already.
"When Jim calls up tell him it's no good--he can't see me," says I, the
last thing. And then I set off in the limousine.
Well, I'd put on a very simple imported model and a small hat, and only
my diamond earrings, and a brooch Jim had give me, when we was first
engaged, over my aching heart. I wanted, above all things, to look
refined; for, even if the U. S. Army isn't always quite that, still,
this was a ladies' branch of it. And you know what women can
be--especially in organizations; though I admit I hadn't had much
previous experience with them, except the White Kittens, which Ma
insisted on me keeping up with and contributing to their annual ball,
because of she having always belonged. And--believe you me--the scraps I
seen at some of their Execution Committee meetings would make the Battle
of the Marne look like a pinochle post-mortem!
Well, as I was saying, I took no chances on appearances of refinement in
this case, not knowing exactly what class of ladies would be running the
Woman's Automobile Service. And, even when I got to their office, it
took me several minutes before I got the right dope on them and their
line--do you get me?
In the first place, it wasn't at all like the White Kittens'
Headquarters, in the Palatial Hotel ball-room. Instead, it was a shop on
a swell side street, with two very plain capable-looking dark-green
ambulances standing outside. My limousine had to stop next door on
account of them.
Well, I got out and walked across and into that shop. And--believe you
me--it was the plainest place you ever saw; not even so much as a flower
or a rug to give it a womanly touch. But neat! My Gawd! And there was
three young ladies there, all in the snappiest-looking uniforms you ever
want to see--dark green, like the ambulances, with gold on the collar,
and caps like the Oversea's Army, and the cutest leggings! My!
Maybe you think they looked like a chorus? They did not! They was as
business-like as English officers. Over in one corner a frowzy-looking
little dame was sitting, reading a book. There wasn't no unnecessary
furniture in the place, and 'way at the back was a door marked Captain
Worth--Private, which seemed funny.
The minute I come in one of the girls jumped up and says what could she
do for me?
I seen at once she was a perfect lady.
"I am Marie La Tour," I says in a very quiet, low-pitched voice, like a
drawing-room act.
"Yes?" says she. "And what can I do for you, Miss--er----"
"La Tour!" I says again, as patient as possible.
But it was plain she didn't get me, even the second time, though it's a
cinch she heard me all right, all right. But the name simply didn't mean
nothing in her young life. Was I surprised? I was! Of course if I had
said "I am Mrs. Vernon Castle," and she didn't know who it was, I
wouldn't of got such a jolt. But Marie La Tour! Well, there's ignorance
even among the educated, and I realized this and didn't try to wise her
up any. After all, I was not out for publicity, but for serving my
country. Besides, I had heard right along that the army was full of
democracy; and, of course, this was some of it.
"Well," I says, "I would like to enlist. My heart is broken, but full of
patriotism, and this seemed a good place to come."
"Good!" says this young lady, which I had noticed by this time she had a
lieutenant's uniform on her, but not by any means intending she was glad
my heart was broken. "Good!" she says. "Sit down and let me tell you
about our organization."
"Is it the regular army?" I asked.
"Not yet," says she; "but we hope we will eventually get official
recognition. We are already used by the Government for dispatch and
ambulance service and as escorts and drivers for officers and members of
the various departments; also, as government inspectors. So you see it
is a very live work."
"And it's a awfully pretty costume," I says; "so snappy."
"The uniform is only the outward sign of what we are doing," says Miss
Lieutenant. "You have a car?"
"Outside," I says; "eight-thousand dollars, and all paid for. You can
have it if it's any good to you. Ma always prefers the street car
anyways."
"Thank you; that is splendid!" says the lady officer, very pleasant, but
not exactly excited over my offer--which was some offer at that.
She took out a slip of paper and begun filling in some blanks on it.
First, the make of the car, and then the answers to the questions she
shot at me.
"Can we have it at a moment's notice?" she said. "Yes? Good! Is it new?
In good condition? Do you loan or give it?"
"Give!" I says, brief. "I am not going to be a piker to Uncle Sam."
At this the lady lieutenant actually came out of her shell enough to
give me a smile.
"That's the spirit!" she says. "We sometimes have as many as twenty
offers of cars a day. But, as a rule, they are half-time loans. Can you
drive?"
"Drive a horse?" says I.
"No, no," says the kid, serious again, "a car, of course!"
"Why, no," says I, feeling sort of cheap. "Isn't there anything else I
can do?"
"Plenty," she says, cheerfully; "but you will have to learn to drive,
first of all. You must have a chauffeur's license, a doctor's
certificate of health, two letters of recommendation from prominent
citizens as to your loyalty and general character, and a graduate's
certificate from a technical automobile school."
"Anything else?" I says, sort of faint.
"Well, of course, you will have to take the nursing and first-aid course
at St. Timothy's Hospital," she says, "and the regular U. S. Infantry
drill. But that's about all."
"Do I have to learn all that stuff before I can come in?" I asked,
feeling about as small as when I had my first try-out on the big time
circuit.
"Oh, no," says Miss Lieutenant; "you can sign your application right
away if you like. Then you can come in immediately and start rookie
drill and the first-aid work with the service while you are getting your
technical training."
Believe you me, my breath was about taken away by all this stuff. I
don't really know now just what I did expect when I first come into
that shop, but I guess I had a sort of idea they'd give me a big welcome
and I'd get a costume of some sort; and, after that--well, I don't
really know. I certainly never expected what they handed me. But I was
game.
"When can I commence all this?" I says.
"When do you want to?" says Miss Lieutenant.
"To-day," I says firmly. At this Miss Lieutenant actually smiled again.
"Good!" says she. "The minute you bring me that health certificate and
those letters of recommendation I'll sign you up and you can start in at
the Automobile Training School. To-morrow morning is the time at St.
Timothy's Hospital and to-morrow afternoon is rookie drill."
"And when is the auto school?" I says.
"Every afternoon," she says.
"Then," says I, "I'll get them letters and the certificate here by noon.
And if you O. K. them I'll just start in this P. M.--if it's all the
same to you."
"Good!" says Miss Lieutenant, evidently not displeased, yet determined
to show no emotion.
Then she got up, indicating that our business was over, clicked her
heels together like a regular officer, and made a stiff little bow. Oh,
wasn't she professional, just!
"Well, I'll be back," I says, and started to go. "I'm sure I can get
everything but the technical stuff; and I'll get that if I die of it!"
III
AND--believe you me--I had no idea how near true them words was when I
uttered them. I was almost at the door when the frowzy little dame in
the corner, which I had forgotten she was there, come over and touched
me on the arm.
"I beg your pardon, my dear," she says; "but I want to tell you I think
your spirit is fine. And don't let any fear of the technical course
deter you. Even I was able to do it."
Was I surprised? I was! But she seemed very sweet and kind, though so
unnoticeable; so I just says thanks, and then--believe you me--started
out on some rush!
First of all, I hustled up to old Doc Al's place, which Ma and me has
him for a doctor; though Gawd knows there ain't never a blessed thing
the matter with our healths. Still, since her trapeze days Ma has
always felt that emergencies do happen. Well, of course, he give me a
perfect certificate in less than ten minutes' time, and I was off to see
Goldringer, head of the dancing trust; and him and his partner,
Kingston, each give me a elegant letter of recommendation, than which I
could scarcely of got letters from any more prominent citizens--unless,
maybe, Pres. Wilson.
Well, anyways, I took all three recommends down to the young lady
lieutenant, and there all was the same. Well, it was still lacking five
to twelve when I come in, and Miss Lieutenant looked quite some
surprised, though she tried not to. The letters and the doc's
certificate was O. K.; and the first thing you know, I was signed up and
given three passes. One for the auto school for two o'clock that same P.
M.; one for the hospital, calling for me to be on hand for rehearsal of
the nursing act at nine o'clock next morning. The third was also a call
for rehearsal--a outdoor drill in the park at three P. M. next day. It
looked like I was going to have a busy life.
"Well," I says, "would you like the car now?" I says. "I can walk home
just as good as not."
"No, thanks," says Miss Lieutenant. "We will call upon you for it when
it is needed."
Believe you me, I was grateful for that, because I ain't used to
hustling round in the early morning, and I had hustled some this time.
So I climbed in and says "Home, James!" and dropped in on the seat and
was carried uptown for lunch.
While on the way I got the first chance I'd had all morning to think
about Jim, and to wonder what he had said when he phoned to apologize.
And did the ache come back in my heart when I got thinking of him? It
did! I felt almost sick with lonesomeness by the time I got to the flat.
And whatter you think? Jim hadn't phoned at all! Not a peep out of him!
At first I thought there must be some mistake; but after I'd rowed with
the operator in the hall, and with Ma and Musette both, I come to
realize that the split between me and Jim was real--that we was off each
other sure enough. And it was not so surprising that a man which didn't
hit a German whose alligator had bit him wouldn't know how to treat a
lady!
But somehow Jim's being so mean about not phoning perked me up a lot and
give me courage to think of going into that auto school. I had
commenced to be awful doubtful about it; but Jim's neglect, together
with the lunch Ma had fixed, set me up a lot. And by one-thirty by my
wrist watch, and a quarter to two by the mantel-piece clock, I had the
strength to struggle into a _demitallieur,_ which is French for any
lady's suit costing over sixty dollars, and get to the auto school by
the time the lady lieutenant had told them to expect me.
Oh, that auto school! The torture chambers of this here Castle of
Chillon has nothing on it and--believe you me--the first set of tools a
person going into it needs is a manicure set. The next thing they need
is a good memory, the kind which can get a twelve-hundred-line part
overnight; which no dancer can nor is ever supposed to!
One thing I will say for that school, though--they was not such a
ill-informed lot as the Automobile Service. From the very minute I set
foot inside the place they knew who I was, and the manager give me the
pick of half a dozen young fellows who was just filled with patriotic
longing to help me qualify for the service.
After giving them the once over I finally decided on one lean-looking
bird, who seemed married, and quiet, and likely to teach me something
about the insides of an auto, instead of asking me questions about the
steps of the Teatime Tango Trot, and did I feel the same in my make-up?
Well, the first thing this bird asks me is do I know anything about a
car? And I says, know what? And he says, well, can I name the parts of a
car? And I says, yes; and he says for me to name them. So I says color,
lining, flower holder, clock, speaking tube and chauffeur.
Well, the bird says so far correct; but that wasn't enough, and he
guessed we better begin at the more fundamental parts and would I just
step inside?
Well, it seems this auto school undertakes to teach you everything about
a car from the paint on the body to the appendix, or magneto, as it is
called, in twenty lessons; which is like trying to teach the Teatime
Tango Trot, with three hand-springs and twenty whirls round your
partner's neck, by mail for five dollars. Which is to say it can't be
done.
First off, the instructor hands you a bunch of yellow papers with a lot
of typewriting on them--twenty sheets in all, or one per lesson, and
all you got to do is learn them good and then put into practice what you
learn; and after that what you can't do to a car would fill a book!
Well, after you grab this sheaf of stage bank notes you look at number
one and follow the bird that's teaching you round the room while he
reels it off. I guess the idea of you holding the paper is to check him
up if he makes a mistake. Anyways, this bird let me in among a flock of
busted-looking pieces of machinery and begun talking fast. At first, I
didn't get him at all; but when I got sort of used to it I realized he
was saying something like this:
"The crank shaft is a steel drop-forging having arms extending from
center of shaft according to number of cylinders. It is used to change
the reciprocating movement of the piston into a rotary motion of the
flywheel; it has a starting handle at one end and the flywheel at the
other, as you observe. We will now pass on to the exhaust manifold,
which is generally constructed of cast iron; it conducts the burned
gases from the exhaust valve . . ."
"Hold on!" I says. "Exhaust is right! I'm exhausted this minute. If you
don't mind I'd like to sit down and talk sense, instead of listening to
a phonograph monologue in a foreign language."
The instructor bird seemed sort of winded by this; but he got a couple
of chairs and pretty soon we was sitting in a quiet corner talking like
we'd both been on the same circuit for five years.
"Now listen here, brother," I says real earnest; "I want to learn this
stuff, and learn it right! And I want you to stick by me and see me
through, same as you would any male man that come in here to learn to be
a chauffeur. Now take it easy and make me get it, and I'll play square
and do my best to understand, without no nonsense."
"Say, you bet I will, Miss La Tour!" says this bird, who, married or
not, had some spirit in him yet. "You bet I will! You see, a lot of
dames come in here just because they ain't got nothing else to do. And
you yourself must realize that a guy can only go through the motions
when that's all they want."
Well, I could see that plain enough, and from then on we got along like
a new team of partners with equal money in the act and going big on
thirty straight weeks' booking. And--believe you me--there is a awful
lot of interesting things about a auto; only you would never suspect it
until you start to look at what is under the hood and body. As to
understanding them all, you couldn't get it all off of no twenty sheets
of yellow paper, nor twenty hundred, either! It's a career, really
understanding a machine is; just the same as being a expert dancer. The
guy that invented all them parts and got them working together certainly
must of set up nights doing it.
Well, anyways, after two hours of lapping up this dope I got so's I
could actually tell the cam shaft from the crank shaft and the
difference between a cycle and a cylinder, which was enough for one day.
And then I rode home to Ma.
Actually I had almost forgot to be miserable about Jim for two whole
hours! But when I got home, and he hadn't phoned to apologize yet, it
all came back over me, and I simply felt that, automobiles and
enlistments or no, I wanted to die--just die! I cried so bad that even
Ma couldn't make me mind, and I was so tired I couldn't even taste the
hot cakes she had fixed. I do believe Ma would think of cooking
something tasty if the world was coming to a end the next minute. She'd
be afraid the recording angel would need a sandwich and a cup of hot
coffee to keep him going while he was on the job.
But, anyways, they couldn't do nothing to me, or get me to go to the
Ritz or the theater much less the midnight show; but the last did not
matter, because I was wore out and asleep long before. And so Ma had to
telephone that Miss La Tour was suddenly ill and unable to appear. I
made her swear not to phone Jim nor let him in nor Roscoe, the publicity
man, if they was to come--not on no account. And so I slept--poor
child!--worn by the tossing of the cruel ocean of life--do you get me?
Well, next morning I was up long before Musette, and would of been
obliged to dress unaided, only for Ma never having got used to sleeping
late, partly on account of her always taking a nap just after the
matinée performance when with the circus, and still continuing the
habit. So Ma give me my coffee and a big kiss, and promised not to tell
Jim nothing if he telephoned and I set off to be at the hospital at nine
A. M., according to orders from Miss Lieutenant.
Well, there has always been something about a hospital I didn't care for
much; not that I have went to many--only the night Jim got bit by the
alligator; and once, when me and Jim was first engaged, he had a dog
which we had to take to the dog hospital. But--believe you me--this St.
Timothy's Hospital, was quite different from the dog hospital. It was a
whole lot more like a swell hotel, with porters and bell boys and clerks
and elevators, and everything except a café, as far as I could make out;
and I'm not sure about that, but I don't suppose they had it.
I was so scared of being late that I was a little early and had to wait
in a office. Pretty soon two or three other rookies come in; and, being
ladies, of course we didn't dare to speak to each other at first. And
then the ladies of the Automobile Service commenced coming in, wearing
their uniforms. And were they a fine-looking lot? They were! I sure did
wish I had a right to that costume; and I had a feeling that my heart
wouldn't hurt near so bad, even when thinking of Jim, once it was
beating under that snappy-looking uniform coat in Uncle Sam's
service--do you get me?
Well, about this time we were let go upstairs in one of them regular
hotel elevators, the rookies still scared, the regular members in good
standing talking among theirselves, though several spoke to me nice and
friendly; in particular, the little frowzy one which had been reading
the book the day before in the office, but wasn't at all sloppy in her
uniform.
Believe you me, I had a awful funny feeling in the middle of my stomach
going up in that elevator, and not for the same reason as the
Metropolitan Tower or any of them tall buildings, either. It was because
of not knowing what was ahead of me and preparing for the worst. After
I'd seen the kind of stuff them lady soldiers had to learn in the auto
shop, it seemed like about anything might be expected of them in a mere
hospital. So I got myself all braced up so's if I had to cut off a leg,
or extract a tooth or anything, I'd be able to go to it and not bat an
eye-lash--not outwardly, anyway.
But things is seldom as bad as you figure in advance--not even
first-night performances. And the stuff which was actually put up to us
was simple as a ordinary one-step. At least, it looked so from a
distance. By distance I mean this: When the nursing instructor--a lady
in a white dress, with the darndest-looking little soubrette cap stuck
'way on the back of her head--when she stood up in front of the lot of
us and put a Velpeau bandage--which is French for sling, I guess, and
looks it--on one of the lady soldiers who was acting as mannequin, why,
it looked easy.
While she was putting it on she handed us a line of talk something like
that bird at the auto school, only not so fluent. And when she got
through it was up to the rest of us to put the Velpeau bandages on each
other. Gawd knows it was no cinch.
First, I set down, and a girl in uniform asked could she wrap me up.
Well, it just naturally rumpled my Georgette blouse; but what's a blouse
to a patriot? I let her go to it, and she done it so good and so quick
that it was all over before I knew it, as the dentist says; and then it
was up to me. Somebody give me a nice new roll of bandage and told me to
get a model.
Well, I didn't have the nerve to ask any one, me being so new and the
name Marie La Tour not meaning anything to nobody here. And so here was
me standing round like a fool, not knowing how to commence, when up
comes that lady--her which had been so sloppy reading a book in the
office.
"Can't I be your model?" she offered, and--believe you me--I could of
almost cried, I was so glad to have somebody take notice of me.
I liked that dame more each time I seen her; she sure was refined. Even
her sloppiness was refined--do you get me?
Well, as to real work, that sheaf of yellow papers up to the auto school
had nothing on the bandaging game when it come to understanding it
properly. Believe you me, that bandage had a will of its own, and the
only way to make it mind would of been to step on it and kill it. But
after a little I managed to tie up the lady pretty good, and before I
was done I had my mind made up that Musette had lost her regular job and
was going to be a bandage mannequin from that P. M. on until I got the
hang of the thing.
Well, when the scramble of putting on the bandage was over and past, we
was told that after we got on to the theory we'd be sent down to the
Charity Ward for two solid weeks and practice what we'd learned.
Well, I thought, if I ever get there Gawd help the charity patients! I
guess the two weeks won't qualify me for the Auto Service. More likely
I'll be ready for the Battalion of Death, or whatever they call them
Russian women!
Well, when the bandages was all gathered up we was dismissed, as they
call it, and told to report for drill in a certain place in the park, it
being a fine day.
I must say I didn't think a whole lot of the hospital end of the game,
because it wasn't pleasant. Of course I had no intention to quit in any
way, but it sort of depressed me, what with all that sickness going on
round me and the talk about wounds and bandages. And so my mind wasn't
took off Jim, like it was by the auto work, me having a heart which
needed a little bandaging--only that can't be done, of course.
IV
WELL, on the way home I cried some more. And well I might. For when I
got there had Jim phoned? He had not! Nobody but Goldringer, the
manager, and Roscoe, the publicity man, and a few unimportant nuts like
that, and some of the newspapers. Ma had stalled them off pretty good by
saying it was impossible to disturb me.
And it seems these people hadn't been able to locate Jim anywheres,
either. At first that sounded sort of funny to me; but when I come to
think it over I realized about his nose, where the alligator had bit him
and the doctor had put on the brown stuff, from which he wouldn't
naturally care to be seen--only no one could say that it would prevent
him using the phone, which I also realized.
Well, after I eat a little liver and bacon, and so on, which Ma had
fixed for me, and cried some, which made me feel better again, I started
out for drill; which means that now comes the real important part of
what happened and the true measure of the tale, as the poet says.
Well, it seems we rookies--and I must pause to mention that I don't like
that word rookies; it sounds like something that would get the hook
amateur nights. Well, as I was saying, we rookies was told to report at
three o'clock for a private drill, all of our very own. But I was on to
the fact that the regular members in good standing would be there ahead
of us to do well what we was about to do badly. So I thought I would go
early and sit out in front, or whatever was the same thing, and try and
get a line on how it was done.
Believe you me, there ain't many steps I can't get by seeing them done
once; and if I was to of gone up to the Palace and watch Castle, or Rock
and White, or any one of them, when I come away I could do the steps
they pulled as good as if I had invented them!
Well, this was my idea in going up and seeing the ladies drill. So there
I was at the park bright and early on a fine sunny afternoon, with the
ladies all in uniform. But I wasn't in any too much time, for I'd no
sooner got there than a big roughneck of a feller--a regular U. S. drill
sergeant, I found out after--come up and yelled: "Fall in!" Just as rude
as any stage director I ever seen! But the ladies didn't seem to mind a
bit. They didn't fall into nothing though; they just hustled into line
and stood there.
"Ten-shun!" says the feller. And they all stood like a chorus when the
stage manager is telling them he is going to quit the show if they don't
learn no better, and they're a bunch of fatheads, and he's going to get
them fired. In other words, they stood perfectly still.
Well, after that it was something grand, what those ladies did. I will
say that when I come down to the park that afternoon I thought maybe I'd
see some pretty fair chorus work; you know--formations, and etc. But
this was no chorus work, it was soldiering. I never seen anything neater
in my life. Was it snappy? It was! And when I thought how that bunch of
ladies knew all about autos from soup to nuts, and about bandages, and
etc., believe you me--that drill was the finishing touch.
For once in my life, I was anxious to be in the chorus, even in the back
line. But not forever--not much! Believe you me, I made up my mind that,
once I was really in it, I was going to work for a speaking part like I
never worked before. And meantime I started in that direction by trying
to figure out just what the ladies did when the stage manager--I mean,
officer--hollered at them. And--believe you me--I had the
turn-on-the-heel and push-off-with-the-toe idea on that right-and-left
face stuff long before the regular members in good standing was
dismissed and we lady rookies was called.
Well, the same roughneck which had drilled the others had us simps
wished on to him; and the first thing he done was to get us in a row
--you couldn't properly call it a line--and then stand out in front and
look at us sort of hopeless and discouraged, like a good director which
has just finished with a bunch of old-timers and is starting with green
material for the back row. Then he commenced talking.
Well, while this bird was getting off a line of talk about us now being
soldiers of the U. S. A. and that being no joke to him or us, and etc.,
and etc., but no instructions in it, I let my mind wander just a little,
on account of me having enlisted for deeper reasons than any he
mentioned and him quite incapable of strengthening them.
And while my mind wandered this little bit, and I was thinking how funny
it felt to be back in the chorus--do you get me?--I happened to take a
look at the houses facing the park. And--believe you me--I got a jolt,
for there we was standing right opposite Ruby Rosalie's house!
Well, I was that astonished to realize it you could of knocked me over
with a sudden noise! Up to then I had been so interested in the other
ladies and what they was doing I hadn't even noticed it.
And then, before I could really commence to think what a awful thing it
would be if Ruby was to look out of the window and see me standing
there, and think I was just in some chorus, and maybe that nasty Von
Hoffman with her, and the both of them laughing their fool heads off,
the officer says "Ten-shun!" he says. And, of course, I tenshuned,
because of me being anxious to get everything he said when it come to
instruction, and get it right.
Well, he told us a lot of dope on one thing at a time after he had got
us in line, with the tallest at the right hand, which was me. And he
told us very simple and then made us do it; and no camouflage,
because--believe you me--he could spot any lady which done it wrong
quick as a flash.
I will say he didn't have a whole lot of trouble with me, partly on
account of me having had similar work before, and also my feet taking to
new things so easy. But it took me about ten minutes to see that my
patent Oxfords, with the Looie heels, was never going to do for this
work. Though I hate to say it, the other ladies sure did bother him a
lot. They couldn't seem to mind quick enough. And he had a lot of
trouble making them keep at attention.
Every time we'd be that way, just to show what I mean, the lady next to
me would forget and powder her nose. Oh, that wasn't no new sight to me!
I seen worse in my day until they get used to it. But did that officer
get mad? He did!
"Whatter ye think ye're at?" he yells. "A pink tea? Cut that stuff now!
Attention is attention and youse is standing at it," he says. "The worst
crime youse can commit is move without permission."