THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



301 



the car window and gave a good old Au- 

 stralian 'cooee.' But she just shook her 

 head 'cause she didn't 'compree.' " 



barty's REQUIEM 



Just here a fourth man wearing the 

 same divisional colors on his sleeve joins 

 our group to the gay shout of "Hello, 

 Digger," which is only another name for 

 "mate," you know. 



Then: "Where's Barty? Didn't he 

 come along with you?" 



The newcomer shakes his head, and 

 when he is asked "Why not?" answers 

 simply, "Dead." To a further question 

 of "When?" he replies, "Monday." And 

 Barty 's only requiem from three husky 

 throats is, "He was a good bloke." 



As I say "Hello !" to three New Zea- 

 landers, I see that something is very 

 wrong with them, for they fairly radiate 

 gloom — so much so that the smiling Au- 

 stralian, who has just lighted a "fag," 

 again takes the floor. He wants us all 

 to "gaze on this procession of joy-kill- 

 ers." And he goes on like this : 



"Say, fellows, this is 'Parus! Don't 

 you know that? And don't you know 

 you're damn lucky to be alive?" 



"That's no news to us," says one of the 

 newcomers, a stretcher-bearer. "But on 

 the last afternoon, when in spite of our- 

 selves we feel a little down, we come in 

 here and a lady begins to sing 'End of 

 a Perfect Day.' " 



When I look at these three nice boys 

 facing no one knows what, in spite of all 

 talk about "encouraging the morale of 

 the men," I can't help saying : 



"If you happened to steal another day, 

 you wouldn't be the first." 



The big-eyed one, who is a bomb- 

 thrower, shakes his head mournfully as 

 he tells me it can't be done, for "We've 

 got to think of the other fellows who are 

 waiting their turn. Anyway, it's a terri- 

 ble risk." 



THE UNBELIEVABLY PERFECT GIFT 



And when I ask if the risk isn't worth 

 the result, everybody present acknowl- 

 edges vociferously that it is, but — at 

 which the third kid, who up to now has 

 eaten steadily and said nothing, breaks 

 into the conversation with "Oh, hell, lady, 

 we're three days overdue now !" 



Some one touches me on the shoulder 

 and I turn to greet a serious, anxious- 

 looking soldier with whom I have a great 

 secret. His first words are: 



"Did you get it?" 



And in a stage whisper I answer, "Yes." 



Then he asks, "Is she pretty?" 



And I say : 



'Wonderful — really, truly curls and a 

 white lace dress, and all the little under- 

 things hand-made, with ribbon bows 

 everywhere. And she can be dressed and 

 undressed a hundred times a day, be- 

 cause there are regular grown-up 'snaps' 

 on everything. Even her hat's got a hat- 

 pin and she's wearing gloves. And she 

 says, 'Mamma' and"- — 



Here I am interrupted with, "Can she 

 say papa?" And I swear it. 



Having kept the best till last, I tell him 

 that she walks. All you have to do is to 

 turn a little thing in her back and she 

 starts. She's so cunning I almost want 

 to keep her for myself, though I shudder 

 when I think about the price. 



"Price," scorns he, "do you think I 

 care a hang about the price ? Please re- 

 member that child o' mine is four years 

 old now, and when I saw her she was 

 exactly seven months. Don't you sup- 

 pose I want her to know she's got a 

 daddy?" 



I take advantage of the lull in the rush 

 of serving, and sneak him through the 

 kitchen, where no soldier is allowed, into 

 the room where we hang our coats. The 

 chief tea-maker begins to expostulate, 

 then recognizes my companion and only 

 smiles ; for she, too, has seen Miss Dolly. 

 I allow daddy to open the box. As he 

 lifts from the many sheets of pink tissue 

 paper this unbelievably perfect gift he 

 only gasps, "Oooooohhhhh," but I am re- 

 paid. 



"war's a good thing for a lot of us" 



I return to the tea-room to find a hot- 

 headed chap storming indignantly: 



"There you go again, talking about the 

 war. There ought to be a law" — 



"That's so," interpolates his neighbor. 

 "What else do we know after three years 

 of it? You pick a nice, new, interesting 

 subject and tell us about it. Why not 

 give us a little lecture on the mud? 

 That's alwavs interesting" to the ladies. 



