P.S.--I hope Skinny keeps well. He will if he don't try to sing again
tonite.
[Illustration: his voice wuz trained fer Grand Rapids instead of Grand
Opera]
Dere Julie,
They took away our maiden names yesterday, and give us numbers,
Skinny's is 31. Yesterday his old man arrived in camp to visit him.
Stepping blithely up to the top sarge he pipes up "I am the father of
thirty-one." "Well said the sarge, you ain't got much on me, I am the
father of eighteen myself."
My number is 475. Today they marched us off to listen to a hour sermon
by a antiquated ol' bunch of spinnage, who at the end bawled out, No.
475. "Art thou weary, Art thou languid?" An now they give me 7 days in
the guard house because I yelled out that I certainly was. How was I
to know that the ol' billy goat was givin out the him to be sang.
Im readin in the papers you sent me from home that Bill Ferguson has
enlisted, which fact leads your "uncle Dudley" to say that the war
certainly is nearin the end, for nobody ever knowed Bill to hold a job
more than 30 days at the longest.
We got our first settin up exercises today. Believe you me, they are
more settin down than they are settin up. All the boobs have to lie
on there backs, put there laigs in the air, and move 'em like he wuz
ridin a bicycle. All to once Skinny Shaner stopped. The drill Sarge
stepped over and deemanded to know why he quit. "Im coastin" pipes
Skinny, "I always do a little coastin when I ride a wheel." Believe
you me if Skinny ever tries to ride all of them wheels in his head at
one and the same time, he have to do a considerable lot of coastin.
With love and mushes,