em, the lead and the muzzle. I must
remember this, it is very important. The men are getting so used to
inoculations around here that they complain when they don't get
enough. We're shaping up into a fine body of men, our company
commander told us this morning, and added, that if we continue to pick
up cigarette butts several more weeks we'll be able to stack arms
without dropping our guns. Eli, the goat, seems unwell to-day. I
attribute his unfortunate condition to his constant and unrelenting
efforts to keep the canteen clear of paper. It is my belief that
goats are not healthy because of the fact that they eat paper, but in
spite of it, and I feel sure that if all goats got together and
decided to cut out paper for a while and live on a regular diet, they
would be a much more robust race. The movies were great to-night. I
saw Sidney Drew's left ear and a mole on the neck of the man in front
of me.

_March 21st._ A fellow in our bay asked last night how much an
admiral's pay was a month and when we told him he yawned, turned over
on his side and said, "Not enough." He added that he could pick up
that much at a first-class parade any time. We all tightened our wrist
watches. Been blinking at the blinker all evening. Can't make much
sense out of it. The bloomin' thing is always two blinks ahead of me.
It's all very nice, I dare say, but I'd much rather get my messages on
scented paper. I got one to-day. She called me her "Great, big, cute
little sailor boy." Those were her exact words. How clever she is. I'm
going to marry her just as soon as I'm a junior lieutenant. She'll
wait a year, anyway.

_March 22d._ I made up verses to myself in my hammock last night.
Perhaps I'll send some of them to the camp paper. It would be nice to
see your stuff in print. Here's one of the poems:

_THE UNREGENERATE SAILOR MAN_

I

I take my booze
In my overshoes;
I'm fond of the taste of rubber;
I oil my hair
With the grease of bear
Or else with a bull whale's blubber.

II

My dusky wife
Was a source of strife,
So I left her in Singapore
And sailed away
At the break of day--
Since then I have widowed four.

III

Avast! Belay,
And alack-a-day
That I gazed in the eyes of beauty.
For in devious ways
Their innocent gaze
Has caused me much extra duty.

IV

I never get past
The jolly old mast,
The skipper and I are quite chummy;