80 



THE NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC MAGAZINE 



Courtesy of the American Red Cross 

 A TRIBUTE TO A SUPPING HERO 



did the walking. Thanks awfully for the 

 posy." 



The shadows are lengthening on the 

 wall, as I noiselessly leave this room of 

 sorrow. From a little way down the hall, 

 along with the pleasant clatter of alumi- 

 num dishes and knives and forks, comes 

 the unmistakable smell of chicken gravy. 

 The inmates of Geographic Ward No. I 

 are already sitting up and taking notice. 

 Soon the wheeled serving table stops be- 

 fore their door, and the funny boy, who, 

 according to his own statement, "tried to 

 stop a shell with his hand," jumps up to 

 help. He wants me to know that there is 

 rice to go with the gravy, and white 

 bread, and new peas, and lettuce, and 

 milk, and mixed stewed fruit. 



I notice that boys whose bones are 

 commencing to knit are also beginning to 

 recover their appetites. And I can't help 

 saying, "It could be worse, couldn't it, 

 Yanks?" 



The busy helper licks a ringer and, ges- 

 ticulating grandly with a dripping spoon, 

 bursts forth like this: "Say, lady, listen: 



When you haven't seen a razor for so long 

 that your face looks like a barbed-wire 

 entanglement ; when you haven't had a 

 drop of water except inside for four 

 days ; when you 'get yours' and somebody 

 carries you over thousands of miles of 

 bumps in a road ; when the doctor plugs 

 you up and says next; when you're 

 squeezed in a train for two days and two 

 nights ; when the ambulance lands you 

 here and you say good-by to your muddy 

 outfit and your underwear that walks ; 

 when you're bathed and combed and your 

 teeth are washed ; when your fresh, white 

 bandage doesn't show a single drop of 

 blood ; when you're put in a bed with 

 sheets and a regular pillow, and the nurse 

 comes round and gives you a pat just for 

 luck and hands you something good to 

 drink out of a cup; when you lie back 

 and stretch out your legs and close your 

 eyes — say, fellows ! Ain't it a gr-rand- 

 n-glo-ryus feeling? And say — just give 

 a guess as to how we feel toward the 

 members of this here National Geo- 

 graphic Society." 



