best thing for him and for
the country--and there is a story to that, because it was her husband
that insisted on her letting David go, when she would have kept him. And
she talked of his equipment, how horrid it was that he couldn't dress
like the officers, especially his legs, they are so handsome; but he
wasn't allowed to wear puttees or leather leggings, but must wear those
canvas things. And she gave him everything new; she even mentioned those
French silk pajamas that so amuse you. And then she was indignant that he
was not at once made a lieutenant, or something. And the men in his tent,
except you, Dick, are of no social standing whatever. Of course she
hadn't heard of his being called Lucy. She was so satisfied that I wanted
to tell her. Do write me more of him.

Lovingly MOTHER.

PRIVATE GODWIN'S DAILY LETTER

Before morning drill, Friday, Sep. 15, 1916.

DEAR MOTHER:--

Our good Lucy is a different lad from the one that landed here a week
ago. Did I tell you that he has come to the heroic resolution to clean
his own gun? I suppose the strongest factor in that is his detestation of
Randall. It's quite common here for fellows to get the regulars to clean
their guns, and there's more to be said for that than for many other
indulgences: at least it's better for the rifles. The regulars drive a
good little trade of this kind, and David has twice sent out his piece to
be laundered, as it were. But I know that he perceived that the sentiment
of the squad is against it, and I think he's sensitive enough to
understand the reasons. We're all here to learn to be soldiers, and
taking care of his gun is a pretty important part of a soldier's job. And
then we're an economical crowd. David and I are the only ones in the
squad that didn't have to pinch a little in order to get here; even
Corder spoke recently of the expense as something unwelcome. So it's
really rather bad form to pay for outside service. Yet for all that,
David couldn't quite bring himself to do the dirty work.

So when a regular came to us yesterday, before inspection, and asked for
guns to clean, David began to get his gun out of the rack. He looked a
little uneasily at Knudsen, but the Swede wouldn't see it; he kept
squinting through his own piece. The regular, to make matters sure, said,
"Mr. Randall told me you'd give me your gun. I always clean his." With