"Well, I'm sure," said Mother, "it's very funny that I can never get
to the Captain. I shall write him, however."
"He must have an interesting collection of your letters already," I
suggested. "They would be interesting to publish in book form."
"Anyway," continued Mother, apparently not attending to my remark, "I
think you would look just as well as this young man in one of those
nice white suits."
"No doubt, madam," replied the Ensign propitiatingly, "no doubt."
"Come, Mother," said I, "let's go to the Y.M.C.A. I need something
cool to steady my nerves."
"How about your underwear?" said Mother, coming back to her mania, in
a voice that invited all within earshot who were interested in my
underwear to draw nigh and attend.
"Here, eat this ice cream," I put in quickly, almost feeding her.
"It's melting."
But Mother was not to be decoyed away from her favorite topic.
"I must look it over," she continued firmly.
It seemed to me that every eye in the room was calmly penetrating my
whites and carefully looking over the underwear in which Mother took
such an exaggerated interest. "Socks!" suddenly exploded Mother. "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.
"Are you sure, Mr. Savanrola, that he has left the station?"
"Saw him check out with my own eyes," he said calmly.