Shoo away the drove
Of your jeering billet mates
Betting you won't dare;
Then you spread a slicker
On the floor with care.

Next you doff your O. D.,
And your undershirt.
Wrap a towel 'round your waist,
Wrestle with the dirt;
Do not get the sponge too wet--
Little drops will trickle
Down a soldier's trouser legs--
Golly! How they tickle!

Then you clothe yourself again--
That is, to the belt;
Strip off boots and putts and trou,
Socks--right to the pelt;
Send the gooseflesh quivering
Up and down your limbs--
Gosh! You aren't in quite the mood
For singing gospel hymns.

Then you wash, and wash and wash,
Dry yourself once more,
Put on all your clothes again,
Go to bed and snore,
Wake up at the bugle's call
With a cold, and sore
Truly, baths in France are--well,
What Sherman said of war!

FOOLING THE FLEA.

You'll march in the flea parade and be glad of the chance after you've
lived a week in an old French sheep shed.

"Say, I'll be glad to get back to the mosquitoes," said a young
hand-grenadier from Dallas, Tex., as he dumped his "other clothes" in
the flea-soup cauldron. "These babies chew you to death day and night. A
mosquito's a night-rider only."

The line forms on the right of the cook-shack. The cooks build big fires
out in the open and set out great kettles of water. When the water
begins to boil the parade begins, each man dumping in his flea-infested
clothing--uniform, socks, underwear, wristlets and blankets. The cooks
keep the fires stoked up with wood and the garments boil for a solid
hour.

Then the men form another line and collect their stuff. They wring out
the clothes the best they can and then sit down to "pick 'em off."

"They're fast little devils most usually," said the Dallas man, "but the
sudden shock from warm water to cold air makes them stiff, and you can
catch 'em easy."

The A. E. F.'s living in sheep barns simply can't keep clear of the
things. They're in the rafters, in the hay, and in the planks. Weekly
boiling of clothing only gives a short relief.

Really they aren't fleas at all, but a form of sheep tick. But they
don't distinguish between sheep and American soldiers.

"BUTTON, BUTTON."