ast twenty-one days.

"How many Articles are there?" suddenly asked a C.P.O. who hitherto
had escaped my attention.

"Twelve," I replied promptly, thinking I might just as well play the
game, too.

"What are they based on?" he almost hissed, but not quite.

"The Constitution of these United States," I cried in a loud,
public-spirited voice, at which the C.P.O. choked and turned
dangerously red. It seems that not only was I not quite right, but
that I couldn't have been more wrong.

"Go," he gasped, "before I do you some injury." A very peculiar man, I
thought, but, nevertheless, his heart seemed so set on my going that I
thought it would be best for us to part.

"I am sure I do not wish to force myself upon you," I said icily as I
left. The poor man appeared to be on the verge of having a fit.

"Do you want to tie some knots?" asked a kind-voiced P.O. at the next
booth.

"Crazy about it," says I, easy like.

"Then tie some," says he. So I tied a very pretty little knot I had
learned at the kindergarten some years ago and showed it to him.

"What's that?" says he.

"That," replies I coyly. "Why, that is simply a True Lover's knot. Do
you like it?"

"Orderly," he screamed. "Orderly, remove this." And hands were laid
upon me and I was hurled into the arms of a small, but ever so
sea-going appearing chap, who was engaged in balancing his hat on the
bridge of his nose and wig-wagging at the same time. After beating me
over the head several times with the flags, he said I could play with
him, and he began to send me messages with lightning-like rapidity.
"What is it?" he asked.

"Really," I replied, "I lost interest in your message before you
finished."

After this my paper looked like a million dollars with the one knocked
off.

"What's a hackamatack?" asked the next guy. Thinking he was either
kidding me or given to using baby talk, I replied:

"Why, it's a mixture between a thingamabob and a nibleck."

His treatment of me after this answer so unnerved me that I dropped my
gun at the next booth and became completely demoralized. The greatest
disappointment awaited me at "Monkey Drill," or setting up exercises,
however. I thought I was going to kill this. I felt sure I was going
to outstrip all competitors. But in the middle of it all the examiner
yelled out in one of those sarcastic voices that all rookies learn to
fear: "Are you trying to flirt with me or do you think you're a
bloomin' angel?"

Th