I was about to do next my ownself.
Alas, that in ladies obedience comes so much harder than following out a
impulse! For the officer had no sooner uttered them words, and I agreed
with him, than I went back on him something terrible.
It was this way: As I explained, we was drilling in the park, and not
alone in the park but also opposite Ruby Roselle's house. Well, of
course, we was drilling on a open piece of grass, but at one side of
this here grass was fancy bushes; you know--hedges and what not. And me,
being on the end of the line, was nearest them bushes.
Well, as the sergeant was speaking I seen something move under one of
them bushes; and, as Heaven is my witness, there was that pro-German
alligator which had bit Jim on the nose and started all my troubles.
There he was, walking very slowly, gold-and-diamond collar and all, and
by his lone self, with nobody to protect him!
Well, I never stopped to think or salute, or ask nothing of nobody. All
I knew for the time was that that damn alligator had somehow got out on
his own, and that this was the chance of a lifetime. So, without more
ado, I fell right out of attention and rushed over and reached into the
bushes and grabbed the alligator by the tail.
Well, the officer hollered something at me, I don't know what, and all
the ladies commenced screaming. And was I scared of that alligator? I
was! But I held him up by the tail, and it didn't take me two minutes to
find out that he couldn't bite me that way; and then my scare was gone.
I felt so good about getting him I didn't even care much what was being
said at me by the drill sergeant. I just stood there holding tight to
the alligator's tail and grinning all over myself. But up come Miss
Lieutenant, who had been watching our drill--the one which had signed me
up--and she was as mad as a hornet, only having a awful time trying not
to laugh.
"What's this?" she says, indignant.
Fortunately the alligator was in my left hand; so I saluted.
"Enemy alien alligator!" I says.
"Dismissed from the ranks!" she says. "And report to Sergeant Warner at
Headquarters at five o'clock."
Gee, but that made me feel bad! But she wouldn't listen to no
explanations at all, and there was nothing for me to do except walk off
to where the limousine was waiting. And, in a way, I was glad, because
suppose Ruby had of looked out and saw the alligator in my hand! I
couldn't of got away with him.
As things went, I got him safe into the limousine. And--believe you
me--I didn't dare set him down for a minute for fear of his trying to
get even with me; and so I was obliged to hold him at arm's length until
we got home, which it is a good thing that it wasn't very far.
Well, when we got home you ought to of seen the elevator boys get out of
the way! I walked in holding on to the alligator; and once I got to the
flat there was Ma sitting in the Looie-the-Head-Waiter drawing-room,
reading a cook-book. When she seen what I had I must say that for once
she acted kind of surprised.
Of course, she ain't usually surprised, not after her having twice seen
sudden death in the center ring, and the circus went on just the same.
But alligators coming in unexpected is rather out of the usual. So Ma
marked her place at sauces for fish, and took off her glasses so's she
could see good, and give me the kind of stare she used to hand out when
I got dirt on my Sunday-school dress.
"Why, Mary Gilligan!" she says. "For the land's sakes, where did you get
that?"
"Caught it on the wing!" I says, very sarcastic, on account of my arm
being nearly broke. "Can you cook it for supper?" I says.
"Well," she says. "I guess I can. What is it? A mock turtle?"
"It's a pro-German alligator," I says. "And if you'll just kindly help
me instead of standing there staring at it, we'll intern it some place
so's I can leave my arm get a rest."
Well, we certainly had a fierce time finding something to put him in,
owing to us not being able to agree about what kind of a place he
belonged. Ma was all for the goldfish bowl, claiming it was his native
element; and Musette, who come in, thought the canary cage was better.
But, realizing he couldn't jump very high, I had them get a big hat-box,
and set him in that.
"And now what are you going to do with him?" says Ma as we all stood
'round looking at him; and my two fool dogs barking their heads off on
account of a mistaken idea they had that he was a new pet. "What are you
going to do with him?" says Ma.
"Unless you cook him, I don't know," I says--"except for one thing: I'm
going to take that gold-and-diamond collar offen that brute and sell it
and give the money to the American Red Cross; and I'm going to do it
now!"
Believe you me, I was mad at that alligator! And no wonder! Just look
at all the trouble he made me! So I didn't waste any time getting action
against him. First off, I persuaded Ma, who was real brave, to hold a
ice pick down on his nose good and firm, so's he couldn't open his face.
Then I managed, after a lot of trouble, to get that bejeweled sinful
collar off his neck. And was it a swell collar? It was!
As soon as I had it off we just left that alligator interned in the
hat-box and looked the collar over good. It was made all of a piece and
the jewels were certainly wonderful. I know quite a lot about them, me
and Ma always having invested that way when we had a little extra cash.
Well, as we was looking the stones over carefully, I happened to rub one
which was close to the snap, sort of sideways, and right off something
happened: That there collar parted--yes, sir; parted!--the lining from
the outside, and in the place between the setting and the inside frame
was a couple of thin slips of paper!
Well--believe you me--it didn't take me long to get the idea; not after
having a father and a mother which had been in the circus and had to
think quick, and me having been associated with dramatic stuff all my
life--do you get me? You do!
What with that collar having come off a alligator which I was already
convinced was a pro-German, and knowing Von Hoffman had give it to Ruby
Roselle, and got her to sing Overseas in that nasty costume made out of
the national colors, which should never be done, I seen everything
clear. Von Hoffman had a German job of some kind!
And when I unfolded those papers and seen they was full of funny little
marks like a stenographer makes and then can't read, I realized that I
had happened in on it; and so will any intelligent public.
Well, was Ma and Musette full of questions? They was! But I didn't wait
to answer none of them; for I realized, also, that it was almost five
o'clock, and I was supposed to report at Headquarters for a bawling-out
at that time. And, after me having broken the rules once, I had no wish
to do it again so soon.
Well, I just grabbed up the collar and the papers, and a clean pair of
gloves, as the alligator had completely ruined what I had, and, having
on my hat, waited not to explain, but made a dash for the street. And
by a big piece of luck there was the limousine, still standing outside
on account of I having forgot to tell John to go. Well, I told him
"Headquarters!" and off we started; and I got there just on the dot of
five o'clock.
Well, Miss Lieutenant was there, and a Miss Sergeant--the one I was
reporting to--and that frowzy-looking lady I have spoke of before, and
several other ladies, still in their uniforms. And while I was
explaining, in comes the captain, which she certainly is a smart woman.
And they all listened while I reported and told the whole story about
Ruby and me and Jim and Von Hoffman and the alligator. Then I saluted
and handed over said collar and papers in evidence; and then the captain
spoke up:
"This material, which is undoubtedly in a foreign code, will be of
interest to the Secret Service," she says. "This Von Hoffman is probably
one of those persons who are active in the obviously deliberate effort
to cheapen and degrade the quality of our patriotism," she says; "for I
have heard that is part of the German propaganda here."
"Private La Tour, in view of the unusual circumstances, you are excused
for your action in leaving ranks without permission," she says; "but
next time remember to get your salute recognized," she says--"even under
extreme conditions."
Then she went on, and she says:
"I understand you have given your car," she says. "Some member in
uniform will take this evidence downtown in Private La Tour's car," she
says, "which we now accept for the service."
Then she walked into her office, which said Private on it, and closed
the door; and I watched one of the ladies in uniform go away, with the
collar and the papers, in my limousine.
And after she had went I got a terrible scare, for it come over me all
of a sudden that I hadn't even a nickel change on me to buy car fare
home!
Well, just as I was standing there wondering how I was going to hoof it
after the trying day I had had, that frowzy lady comes up to me, real
kind, like she could almost see what I was thinking of; and she says:
"May I take you home in my car, Miss La Tour?" she says. "I have seen
you dance so often that I feel as though I knew you. I am Mrs. Pieter
van Norden."
Just get that, will you, will you? Her that I had been modeling myself
on for refinement for years! And--would you believe it?--on the way home
she told me she had been trying to dance like me since the first time
she seen me!
Well--believe you me--I felt so good over this, and over having got the
goods on Von Hoffman, and about being excused for making that bad break
at drill, and not getting fired out of the Automobile Service, that I
only commenced feeling bad about Jim and me again after Mrs. Van Norden
had left me at the door of my place, and I was going up in the elevator.
As I was letting myself in with my key I got so low in my mind again
that I felt I would just die if Jim hadn't phoned; and I knew he hadn't,
for I'd given up hope. Well, I opened the door and went in. And then I
got another shock; for right in the middle of the drawing-room stood
Jim.
Well, first off, I didn't know him on account of him being in khaki; but
when he turned around I nearly died for sure! But I didn't actually die.
What I done is nobody's business but mine and Jim's. But I will say it
was a second lieutenant-of-aviation uniform; and they show powder on the
shoulder something terrible.
And he had been studying for months; and that's where he was every
afternoon, and not out with some blonde, and wouldn't tell me for fear
he wouldn't get it!
And I'm going to dance alone at night until he comes back, and all day
drive a truck or something to release a man. And that's the whole inside
story of the split, which is now readily seen is not a fight at all, at
least not yet for we got married at once.
So, only one thing more: Regarding that alligator, Ma decided he would
be too hard to cook. So Jim took him to camp for a mascot, and by the
time he got through there he learned to understand American--believe you
me!
II
PRO BONEHEAD PUBLICO
I
AIN'T it remarkable the way the war has changed the way we look at a
whole lot of things? Take wrist-watches for one. Before the military
idea was going so strong on its present booking but a little while,
wrist-watches had grabbed off a masculine standing for themselves, and
six months before no real man would of been willingly found dead in one!
Then take newspapers! Oncet we used to look at them for news, and now we
just look at them. It's kind of a nervous habit, I guess. And take
simple little things like coal and sugar. Why once we paid no attention
to them and now we look at them real respectful--when we see them.
Which leads me on to say that the war has brought us to look at a great
many things we never even seen before, not if they was right under our
noses. That's how I come to see that letter from the W.S.S.
Committee--and would to Heaven I had not, as the poet says. For
although--believe you me--most of the mail order goods a person buys is
pretty apt to be as rep. because why would a customer write again which
had been stung once, and thrift stamps is no exception, it certainly
will be a long time before I fall so easy for anything the postman slips
me. Next time I'll recognize that his whistle is a note of warning to
more than them which has unpaid bills, which I have not and so never
listened for him.
Well, anyways, the time this little trouble maker reached my side, I had
slipped into a simple little lounging suit of pink georgette pajamas,
and was lying on the day-bed in a regular wallow of misery on account of
wondering if Jim was dead on the gory fields of France, or was it only
the censor--do you get me? I was laying there rubbing a little cold
cream onto my nose and thinking how would it feel to be always able to
do so without losing my husband's love, which, of course, would mean he
had died at the front, when in comes Ma with a couple of letters. I give
one shriek and sprung to my feet, like a regular small-time drama, and
grabbed them off her, cold cream and all. And then slunk back upon the
day-bed and despair when I seen they weren't from Jim. Ma stood there
with her hands on her hips until she seen I wasn't going to break any
bad news to her, when she left me in peace to read them. That is she
meant to, but believe you me, it was far from it as Ma went into our
all-paid-for gold furnished parlour and commenced playing on the pianola
which Jim had give me for a souvenir before he sailed, and Ma, being
sort of heavy and strong, after twenty-five years with a circus, she has
a fierce touch.
Well, anyways, after she had got "Soft and Low" going strong with the
loud pedal and no expression, I opened the first envelope. It was my
copy of my new contract with Goldringer all signed and everything and
calling for only twenty minutes of my first class A-1 parlour dancing
act in his new musical show at the Springtime Garden entitled "Go To It"
and which let all persons know that the party of the first part
hereinafter called the manager was willing and able to pay Miss Marie La
Tour, party of the second ditto, one thousand dollars a week. Which
certainly was _some_ party to look foreward to and scarcely any work to
speak of, a refined act like mine not calling for over three handsprings
and some new steps, which is second nature to me and I generally make up
a few every night for my own amusement same as some of those fellows
which play the piano by hand--do you get me?
Well, anyways, when I had looked the contract over good and seen it
really was, as I had before realized in the office, more than
satisfactory, I salted it away in my toy safe which was nicely built
into the mantel-piece for the greater convenience of burglars, and then
I remembered the other envelope. All unsuspecting as a table d'hote
guest, I opened the envelope, and then almost dropped dead.
It was from President Wilson!
Believe you me, I leaned up against the art-gray wall paper and prepared
to faint after I had read the news. But instead of commencing, "I regret
to inform you of the death in battle," or something like that, it
started:
"THE WHITE HOUSE,
"Washington, D. C.
"I earnestly appeal to every man, woman and child to pledge
themselves to save constantly and to buy as regularly as possible
the securities of the Government; and to do this as far as possible
through membership in War Savings Societies.
"The man who buys War Savings Stamps transfers his purchasing power
to the United States Government.
"May there be none unenlisted in the great volunteer army of
production and saving here at home.
"WOODROW WILSON."
Woodrow Wilson! Signed--and addressed to _me!_ Of course it didn't
exactly begin "Dear Miss La Tour" or anything like that, and he had
signed it with a rubber stamp or something which I did not hold against
him in the least, me realizing at once what a busy man he must be. But
coming as it done instead of a death-notice which I had by this time
fully expected after no letter for over a month, it got to me very
strong. It made me feel all of a sudden that I was a pretty punk patriot
lounging around in pink georgette pajamas which--believe you me--is no
costume for war-work and felt like going right off and borrowing one of
the gingham house-dresses which I have never been able to break Ma of,
only, of course, it would of been too big and anyways what would I of
done after I had it pinned around me? Which could be said of a whole lot
of folks which were rushing into uniforms of their own inventing.
Well, anyways, after the first shock was over, I seen there was an
enclosure with the President's letter. This was from some committee
which had a big W.S.S. lable printed at the top and a piece out of the
social register printed underneath, and was dated N. Y. It begun more
personal.
"Dear Miss La Tour," it said. "As a woman so prominent in the theatrical
world, we feel sure that you would be glad to take an active interest in
the great Thrift movement which is now before the country. Will you not
form a theatrical women's committee that will pledge the sale of
twenty-five thousand dollars' worth of stamps on the first of the month?
The first of every month will be observed as Thrift Stamp Day, and we
will be glad to furnish you with all literature, stamps, etc., if you
will notify headquarters of your willingness to do this work."
The letter was signed by some guy which it was impossible to read his
name because he hadn't used no rubber stamp but did it by hand and had
other things on his mind. But did I care? I did not! Believe you me, I
had already decided to do like he asked, and why would I need to know
his name when I wasn't going to write to him anyways, but to Mr. Wilson?
Dancing as long as I have which is about fifteen years or since I could
walk, pretty near, and not only professionally but drawing my own
contracts from the time most sweet young things is thinking over their
graduation dresses, I have learned one thing, if no other. Always do
business with the boss. Refuse to talk to all office boys, get friendly
with the lady stenographer, if there is one, but do all business with
the one at the head--and no other! This motto has saved me no end of
time which has been spent in healthy exercise under my own roof and Ma's
eagle eye, which otherwise might have wore out the seats of
outside-office chairs.
And so I concluded that I'd sit right down that minute and let Mr.
Wilson know I was on the job. I knew I had some writing paper someplace
and after I had took a lot of powder and chamois and old asperin
tablets out of the desk I dug it up:--a box of handsome velour-finish
tinted slightly pink, with envelopes to match. And I got hold of a pen
and some ink which Musette, my maid, had overlooked, she being a great
writer to her young man which is French and Gawd knows how fluent she
writes him in it, only of course being born over there certainly makes a
difference.
Well, anyways, I cleaned off the desk and rubbed the cream off my nose
and hands and set down to write that letter. And--believe you me--it was
some job. I guess I must of commenced a dozen times and tore them up
with formal openings--do you get me? And then I realized that the box of
pink tinted was getting sort of low and I had better waste not want not,
and so determined to just be natural in what I wrote but not take up his
time with too long a letter. So at last I threw in the clutch, gave
myself a little gas, and we was off, to this effect.
"My dear Mr. Wilson:--
"Many thanks for yours of the 25th inst. Will at once get busy at
helping to make the first of the month savings day instead of
unpaid-bill day.
"Cordially,
"MARIE LA TOUR."
This seemed refined and to the point, and although I was awful tempted
to put a P.S. asking did they know anything about Jim, I left off on
account of me not believing in asking personal favors of the Government
just now, as the war office was probably medium busy and the Censor
might answer first, at that. So I just sealed it up as it was, and about
then Ma left off playing on my souvenir and came in with a pink satin
boudoir cap down tight over her head. Ma just can't seem to get over the
idea that boudoir caps at five dollars and up per each is a sort of de
lux housework garment.
"I'm just going in the kitchen and beat up a few cakes for lunch," said
Ma, and withdrew, leaving me to lick on three cents and shoot the letter
fatefully and finally down the drop near the gilt-bird-cage elevator of
our home-like little flat. I felt awfully relieved and chesty somehow
when it was done and with her good news ringing in my ears. For Ma is
certainly some cook, and she has it all over our chef, who--believe you
me--knows she would never be missed if she went although Ma simply can't
learn to stay out of the kitchen. And while she was busy with the butter
and eggs and sugar and wheat flour, I was deciding to call a committee,
because I knew that was the way you generally start raising twenty-five
thousand dollars worth of anything, except a personal note.
Committee meetings is comparative strangers to me except the White
Kittens Annual Ball, and a few benefit performances which last is
usually for the benefit of those which are to be in it, they leaving
aside all consideration of the benefit of the audience much less of the
charity it is supposed to be for, and the main idea being how long each
actor can hold the spotlight. You may have noticed how these benefit
performances runs on for hours.
Well, anyways, I having been to several such as of course the best known
parlour dancing act in America and the world, like mine undoubtedly is,
is never overlooked. And I knew we had to get a place with a big table
and chairs set around it and then the committee was started. So the
White Kittens always having met in the Grand Ball Room of the Palatial
Hotel, I called up the place and hired the room for the next morning at
twelve-thirty, me being determined that my Theatrical Ladies Committee
should get there directly after breakfast. The cost of the room was one
hundred dollars, and I didn't know was the Government to pay it or us,
but I was, of course, willing to do it myself if necessary. Anyways it
was a committee-room, I knew that by reason of my having sat in it as
such at least twice each year since the place was built--way back in
'13. Then all I had to do was get my committee.
I had just about dived for the telephone book to see who would I call
up, when Ma come in, taking off the pink satin cap and wiping her face.
"I made a omlette," said Ma. "Come catch it before it falls!"
And so I called it the noon-whistle though some might of called it a
day, and we went in and while we ate only a simple little lunch of the
omlette (which we got at first base) and liver and bacon and cold roast
beef and a few stewed prunes with the fresh cake, I told Ma about what
had happened, and how I had already got after the job.
"Well, Mary Gilligan, you done the right thing!" said Ma. "And what kind
of costume are you going to wear?"
"The notices don't say anything about a uniform," I explained to her.
"And I'm pretty sure you don't need any. This is the sort of thing our
leading society swells are taking up so heavy," I says, "and to do it is
not only patriotic but feminine to the core," I says.
"Will you have to stand on the street-corners and worry the life out of
folks?" Ma wanted to know.
"Not much!" I says. "That stuff is for the hoi-poli and idle rich and
kids and unemployed. That's where some of the new democracy comes in. Us
with brains is to do the office work. Them with good hearts only can do
theirselves and the country more service in the stores and street-cars
selling something that don't belong to them," I says, "and--believe you
me--I bet any American gets a funny sensation doing that little thing."
Ma looked real impressed for a minute, showing she hadn't any idea what
I was talking about. Then she come back to her main idea with which she
had started which you can bet she always does until she gets through
with it her own self.
"Well, I think you ought to have something for a uniform," she says.
"Say a cap and maybe a trench coat!"
"I wouldn't wear no trench coat around the Forty-Second Street and
Broadway trenches," I says. "I wouldn't actually have the nerve to
insult the army like that!"
And Ma seen what I meant and said no more which it certainly is
remarkable how good we get on for Mother and daughter.