he speaks Spanish
with an Irish accent, and has never been nearer Madrid than a Spanish
omelet made in Hoboken.

You're nose gets as red as a rear light on an automobile or the beak
of a Park Row panhandler. Your knees knock together like a man who
sees a collector for an installment house. The only things it don't
attack is your corns. They should rename it mucilage flu because it
certainly is a sticker; you have as much pep as an Ingersol watch with
the main spring on a two weeks vacation; but cheer up derie, there
ain't goin to be any job fer any undertaker. No foreman fur a funeral
is gonna say "All those desirin to kiss the corpse, will please pass
up this aisle and go down the other." Not for a while I hope; which
reminds me of that time you and me went to the revival meetin in
Carnarsie. Remember that Julie? You know the time the undertaker put
a century note in the plate, and the ol' sky pilot not knowing who it
wuz prayed that "the business of the giver would increase an hundred
fold."

Skinny went into store today to buy a birthday present for his "Jane"
in the U.S. Steppin blithely up to a fresh sales girl he said "I
wanna get something for a gift to a lady." "Your wife sir?" sed she.
Skinny thought it would be safer to pose as a married man, so he said
"Yes'm." "Bargain counter to the right, sir," and she went on wrasslin
with her Wrigleys; she was so busy with it, she wasted no more time
than a blue gum coon passing a grave yard at midnight, with no rabbits
foot in his pocket. The sales ladies in this emporium are always in
high speed, with the throttle wide open when it comes to chatter; at
another counter I asked the young lady to show me the thinnest thing
in underwear. Flashing a 40 below zero look she lisped, "I'm very
sorry sir, but she's just gone out to lunch."

Yours until the Eskimos wear Palm Beach suits,

BARNEY.

[Illustration: "Somethin fer my wife" says he. "Bargain counter next
isle" says she]

Dere Julie:

We drilled today for the first time since we landed in this land of
smoke and fog. I'd enjoy these drills, in fact so would all the boys,
if it wasn't fer Skinny. The only one that's in step is him. He knows
as much of the commands as a Bowery Bum knows about publishing a
Chinese newspaper.

Today we saw a German prisoner for the first time. He looked nearly
human. Written on his belt was "Gott mit Uns," an English soldier who
saw it said, "But I say Ol top _We have the