Chapter 2

Well ol' dear (you see I've already picked up some London wheezes) a week has flat-wheeled by since you've heard from 'lil brighteyes. Last wensday Skinny and me got a pass to do the burg, and our pocket books have been at half mast ever since. As we are billeted some distance from Picadilly, we figgered to go downtown in a taxi, rite there our trubbles begun. We asked the pilot of the tin Lizzie what the tax would be and he comes back with, "2 and 6 thankee sir." Can you beat it? Two dollars fer me and six fer Skinny. We hot footed it down and saved that much.

I didn't care much about ridin with him anyhow. I think he was a Jona; anyway he was so cross eyed that if he'd aimed a gun at Berlin he would have shot an eye out of Constantinopel.

We wuz a little nervous account of not being wise to the customs, but Skinny said if we kept our lids down over our ears nobody would be wise as to what was going on inside our skulls. The first place we went into was the Palm Tree Inn. All the barkeepers and waiters was "Janes." Most of them wuz pretty good looking; one "Jane" in particular was there with a front. Skinny got one lamp at her and immediately forgot what he joined the army for.

We wondered why it was called Palm Tree Inn cause there wasn't a palm in sight, but when we showed the color of our coin, then everybody in the joint showed us a palm. The people here move slowly, and believe you me Julie a spider slower than a fifth avenoo handsome cab would have a cinch spinnin a web around all of 'em. Skinny says most of 'em has a long line of ancestors; but let me slip you the "info" derie, that some of 'em must be sinkers on the end of the line. I wish that I knowed as much as they think they do.

Yours till someone counts all the flivvers,

BARNEY.

P.S. Tomorrow night, Skinny wants me to go to the Opera with him. I'm not goin--cause I always sleep better at home. I'd rather here a soubrette dolled up in a costume that would barely pass the bord of sensers sing a song like "Mother don't bother with the rolls, father's coming with a bun."

Dere Julie:

These cockney birds sure chirp some language. Believe you me, a guy had orto carry an interpreter around with him. Me and Skinny went out to a swell English camp today to take a peep at English trainin methods; outside we sees a tipical Tommy Atkins settin down fixin sumpin wrong with his kicks; as we heaved along side of him, he yells out to us, "I say, ol' top, have ye any lices?" Skinny, thinkin he ment did we have seam squirrels commenced to bawl him out in jig time, telling him there was no such things in the good ol' U.S.A. when he came back with, "Oh, I say ol' top, I didn't mean the lousy lices, I meant shoe lices." What they say over here about these cooties wouldn't look well in print, and makes me think they are harder to get rid of than a flivver.

If there's one thing in life that Skinny loves its sumpin good to eat. Honestly, Julie, I believe he thinks of eating when he's asleep. We goes into a feedin place yesterday in White Chapel to satisfy what the poets call, an inner longing. I was so hungry my stomak tho't my throat was cut, Skinny slips the female "biscuit shooter" a tip and sez, "Now suggest a good dinner for me;" and she whispered in his listener "Go to some other restaurant." Serves Skinny right about losing the tip for he's such a tight wad that when the company sings "Old Hundred" at chapel Skinny sings the "Ninety and Nine" just to save a cent. Honest Julie, I don't believe he would give two bits to see the statue of Liberty do the hoo-chama-cooch. Speaking of the hoochy-koochy reminds me that we saw the Ol' Curiosity shop that Charlie Dickens wrote about, and desiring to become acquainted with how much Skinny knowed about books, plays, and etcetery, I asked him did he ever see Oliver Twist? He says "no but I've seen Fatima wiggle." He would miss a point if he sat down on a tack, and it would take a vaccum cleaner to sweep the cob-webs from his noodle; someday I'm gonna hang a peece of crape on his nose, for I think his brain is dead.

That's why I think he always has a cold in his head, as you know Julie that disease always strikes in the weakest spot.

Yours until one of the Kaiser's sons is wounded,

BARNEY.

P.S. Keep offen indoor sports, fur none of 'em has got sense enuff to know when to go home.

Dere Julie,

We have caught up with the Spanish influenzy--not influence! as there ain't no sich thing in the world as Spanish influence. The disease is not confined to Spanish people. It hit Skinny and he speaks Spanish with an Irish accent, and has never been nearer Madrid than a Spanish omelet made in Hoboken.

You're nose gets as red as a rear light on an automobile or the beak of a Park Row panhandler. Your knees knock together like a man who sees a collector for an installment house. The only things it don't attack is your corns. They should rename it mucilage flu because it certainly is a sticker; you have as much pep as an Ingersol watch with the main spring on a two weeks vacation; but cheer up derie, there ain't goin to be any job fer any undertaker. No foreman fur a funeral is gonna say "All those desirin to kiss the corpse, will please pass up this aisle and go down the other." Not for a while I hope; which reminds me of that time you and me went to the revival meetin in Carnarsie. Remember that Julie? You know the time the undertaker put a century note in the plate, and the ol' sky pilot not knowing who it wuz prayed that "the business of the giver would increase an hundred fold."

Skinny went into store today to buy a birthday present for his "Jane" in the U.S. Steppin blithely up to a fresh sales girl he said "I wanna get something for a gift to a lady." "Your wife sir?" sed she. Skinny thought it would be safer to pose as a married man, so he said "Yes'm." "Bargain counter to the right, sir," and she went on wrasslin with her Wrigleys; she was so busy with it, she wasted no more time than a blue gum coon passing a grave yard at midnight, with no rabbits foot in his pocket. The sales ladies in this emporium are always in high speed, with the throttle wide open when it comes to chatter; at another counter I asked the young lady to show me the thinnest thing in underwear. Flashing a 40 below zero look she lisped, "I'm very sorry sir, but she's just gone out to lunch."

Yours until the Eskimos wear Palm Beach suits,

BARNEY.

Dere Julie:

We drilled today for the first time since we landed in this land of smoke and fog. I'd enjoy these drills, in fact so would all the boys, if it wasn't fer Skinny. The only one that's in step is him. He knows as much of the commands as a Bowery Bum knows about publishing a Chinese newspaper.

Today we saw a German prisoner for the first time. He looked nearly human. Written on his belt was "Gott mit Uns," an English soldier who saw it said, "But I say Ol top _We have the Americans with us_." So you see they're wise to us already.

Believe you me derie, if this war lasts six months longer, Gen. Pershing and his boys will make German the court language in the lower regions.

Skinny spent last night in the guard house. In trying to get back in camp after taps he runs plum into a sentry who said "Halt, who goes there?" and Skinny told him "Oh never mind, I only have been here a week and you wouldn't know me ennyhow." He told me today that he didn't wanna be a kernel as there wuzn't much chance fer advancement. I think I told you Julie in one of my letters how stingy this bird Skinny is. Last week we got a three day ferlow and beat it up to the big burg to see the sites. Goin into one of the big hotels, I said to the clerk "What are your rates?" "Five shillings up to 10," he said. Skinny called me to one side an' whispered "Ask him how much it will be up to half-past eight."

Well, derie, we hear we're soon goin on to France, and then fare-thee-well loafin. We be busier than a paralized man with the cooties. The only thing that's lible to bother me is the language. I don't know whether I can speak it or not, I never tried it.

Yours until they have ham at a Jewish wedding,

BARNEY.

Dere Julie:

Skinny and me has at last burgled our way into society. You know derie, that what I know about the highbrow stuff would fill a book, and what Skinny don't know would fill a library.

Believe you me derie, you needn't get jelous for I would just as soon get chummy with a flivver as I would with this bunch of "Janes" who put us on exhibition, for that was exactly what we wuz in their eyes--freeks on exhibition.

It happened like this: Lady Blue Jeans Shoddy or some name like that was givin an afternoon funkshun (I'm quotin from the invite so I can' tell you what it means derie) fer charity and a lot of our company was invited to come, admission free--tickets fifty cents. Anyhow it was a lecture by Lord Somebody for the benefit of Lord knows what; the nearest I could make out it was a spiel on "Do married men make the best husbands." I'd like to tell you how I enjoyed the talk--but I don't use that kind of language; anyhow I'll lay a small peece of change that this bird knew less about what he was trying to talk about than you could drive into a turkey gobbler with a peggin' awl. I give in tho, that he was a brave cuss; anybody who stood up and shot "bull" like he did for two solid hours, must have been brave. Everytime I looked at him I thought of that ol saw "Faint heart never kissed the chamber maid." When he finished everyone in the audience was "out" exceptin an ol maid who was trying to send him a love message by eye wireless.

After his batteries went dead on him we was invited to eat. It wuz the first time I ever eat out in company with Skinny, and believe you me, Julie, it'll be the last time while I am conscious. I'm not going to try to tell you of all his breeches of etiket 'twould take too long, but he pulled one that was a beaut. He kept mixing honey with his peas; I kep kicking him under the table, and finally I got a chanct to whisper "What in h---- was he doin that for?" He whispers back "How am I gonna make 'em stay on my knife if I dont mix 'em with sumpin."

Yours until country bording houses quit using canned vegtabils.

BARNEY.

Dere Julie:--

When the Kaiser is canned and I get back to the ol' job, eatin my 3 a day, and holdin your hand in the movies at nite, I'm gonna try fer the vaudeville. We have formed a quartet in our company, and we must be pretty good fer up to the present nobody has fired anything at us but remarks. Skinny tried to git in by telling us his voice was trained; the top sarge sed he guessed it was trained all-rite, all-rite, but he must of trained it selling strawberries. We have a little Yiddish feller in it too, You know, Julie, the one who slips me his bacon every mornin; when he ain't soldierin, he runs a little gents furnishin store on 8th Avenoo; he's some warbler too, but persists in allus wantin to sing "Keep the home fires Burnin." Well Julie, if he has ten thou. insurance on that joint of his, as he sez he has, no wonder he wants to "keep the home fires burnin." He's all business this little Jewish guy. Skinny sez if he was shiprecked on a deserted eyeland he would get up the next morning and try to sell a map of the eyeland to the natives. He's a good business feller too. He rote a song once, fer a big vaudeville actor, and the actor wrote Izzy to send it along and if it was good he would send a check. Izzy wired back to send the check, if it was good, he'd send the song.

Well Julie, I'd like to see your little blonde bean just about now. Believe you me, Julie, me for the blondes every time. Skinny says that brunettes is the most popular; well maybe he's right; ennyhow his girl has been both, so I suppose he knows. I don't know whether you ever saw this "dame" of Skinny's or not Julie. She lives on the upper east side of New York and ways about 275 plus in her bathin suit; believe you me, she ought to marry a traffic cop as he's the only guy I know of that can handle a crowd. I'll bet 10 cents against Bryan's chance of being Pres. Skinny can wear one of her stockins for a sweater. If she ever wore a striped waist she'd look like the awning over a greek candy store, she never knows when she needs a shine, fer, like Bill the Twospot, she can't see de feat.

Believe you me, angel face she looks like a model fer a tent.

When Her and Skinny walks along Broadway the newsies yell, "Hully Gee! Here goes the claronet and the bass drum, where's the rest of the band?" I'm tellin Skinny I can't see anything attractive about her, and he says "I know you can't see anything but she's got it in the bank all-rite, all-rite."

Speaking about this William Jennins Bryan, I'm readin in the papers about a bull chasin him half way across a field. Imagine Julie, a bull doin that to Theo. Rusevelt, it wouldn't go ten feet before Theo would turn round, grab it by the tale and throw it. When it comes to throwin the bull Theo. has any Spainnard or Mex lashed to the mast howling for mercy.

Yours until Eva Tanguay quits singin "I don't care."

BARNEY.

P.S. Tell your ol' man not to lose any sleep over the four bits I owe him on that last peaknuckle game, for if anything happens to me here you can give it to him out of the l.i. policy.

NOWHERE IN FRANCE.

Dere Julie:

At last we are in the land made famous by Joan of Ark, and notorious by N. Bonaparty. The little burg we are billeted in is about as big as a pound of choclates after a Yale-Harvard football game. It's so small you can stand on the corner of Rue de Main and spit into the country. It looks like the ornament on a birthday cake or a picture post office card.

We have been hear about 1 week, and would have written sooner but for the second time in the life of yours truly, I am recovering from "Mal dee Mear" (the name is bad enuff, but the disease is worse) Third Class passengers call it sea-sickness, but if you have a first class cabin, you are supposed to call it mal dee mear.

They say its only about 30 miles from Dover to Callay; maybe it is on a calm day, but believe you me derie, we went up the hills of water to the tune of about a hundred miles. It was all-rite goin up, but Julie goin down is when everything "comes up." That's if you have anything left to come up.

The game we played comin over would have been a good trainin fer a prize fiter. We tumbled round so we looked like we was shadow boxin. "Snappy brand of weather" pipes one of these sailor guys. He was rite, I never remember givin a better imitation of a whip snapper; and the wind, Julie dere, the wind which spends its time round the Flatiron and Woolworth Buildings, are as the poets say "gentle zephers" to that which sweeps across the English channel when a man sized storm is on; it listens like a cross between the moan of a dyin giastacutus and a subway express behind time under the East River.

I never before was so glad to set my foot on dri land. I was so tickled I could have kisst the ground if it had been Hoboken, N. J.U.S.A. Next time they send me to Vive la France, I hope they send me by parcels post or airoplane. I bumped into the Captain; he said, "I dunno what to call you," I told him he could call me an ambulance or a taxi, anything to get to land with. We have been on water so much since we swore our way into the army, that I don't know whether I'm in the army or navy. Tomorrow me and Skinny is gonna get a pass to look over Paree. We're lookin forward to a big time with what Skinny calls "Ze gay chansonettes." I don't know whether he means a disease or a dance, as I don't make this parley-voo much, but I'm gonna find out before we come back.

With love I am yours until my wrist watch goes 24 hrs without takin a recess,

BARNEY.

P.S. How about my other shirt, did you get it from the Chinks?

Nowhere in France the morning after a night in Paris.

Dere Julie:

So this is Paris. Believe you me, Julie, I don't see why they wanna keep Wilhelm the Twicer away from this burg; give him 48 hrs. in Paree like the once around the clock we had here and it would be fare-thee-well Wilhelm. There would be nothin left to say but "don't he look natural."

Speaking of funerals, Julie reminds me that was the first thing we met up with when we arrove in Paree! Flowers, paul-bearers, an everything. Skinny lowed as how it must be some high and mitey who had joined his 4 fathers, and asked a Frenchy standing on the curb of the "bull-yard" who the big guy wuz? Shrugging his shoulders, he pipes up with sumpin which sounded like "Monsewer Jennyseepah." Well, we didn't ever here of the poor boob, so we went over onto the next Rue (make that Julie. I'm getting along fine), and we runs slap bang! into a other funeral more elegant than the first; and Skinny not wantin to let anything get by him, again asked the name of the guy ridin in the head waggin and he got the same answer "Monsewer Jennyseepah." "Yer a liar," yelled Skinny, "we just saw _his_ funeral on the other street." Well, Julie, I don't blame Skinny, I was a little sore myself on the way this guy tried to string us.

We got along seem the sights without much trouble; the toom of Napoleon the Wunst, the bridge over the Sane, the 4th of July colum and Champ de Lizzie; feelin hungry we drifted into a swell lookin feedin place with good lookin she waiters. Now don't be nervous Julie, there ain't nothin gonna happen with me and them Jane's; for believe you me star of my heart, I don't _care_ what anybody says to me, but you can bet every dollar that Hetty Green ever gave to charity, that when I do marry, I'm gonna get a dame who bawls me out in language that I understand. Well, luckily we struck a she waiter who spoke a little American; to put it as she said "I speek a leetle of what Monsewer calls ze Anglaise." The first thing we ordered was soop. The Jane brought it in a bowl and had her thum jabbed into it, when Skinny pointed to her thum in the soop, she grinned and sed "Zats all rite, Monsewer, it is not hot." We got along very well (considerin that Skinny kept her mind offen her business by trying to send her a eye wireless) and got down to the desert. You know me Julie, Me for the good old fashioned pies like my ol' lady makes. Gettin a lamp at what looked like a juicy huckleberry pie, I pointed to it and said in my company tone of voice "Please give me a big dose of that huckleberry pie." Puttin on her prettiest smile and rollin her eyes, and arching her shoulders she cum back with "if Monsewer will pleese brush off ze flies, he will find it is custard pie--NOT ze huckleberry."

Its a good thing we are leaving to-morrow to go toward the front for if we staid round her long the moral of our regiment would stand at about zero minus 5.

Yours until they chase the Kaiser to Holland with the balance of the windmills.

BARNEY.

On the Hike Nowhere in France.

Dere Julie:

There shure is a bunch of widows over here, Both grass and sod. I say little brighteyes, do you think it possible fer a guy to get hay fever from a grass widow? Ennyhow Skinny got some kind uv fever when he was chummin round with these female comfort kits, and if they don't lose his trail, I can see visions of a certain (what the dickens is that French word for fat--oh yes, embumpoint), lady in Hoboken, N.J.U.S.A., lookin fer a new affinity. In other words, unless the signs is misleading, Skinny is gonna lose his liberty by gettin married, and its the opinion of your "'Lil Brighteyes" that the speech of P. Henry of Va. on "Give me Liberty or give me deth" was made, more because he was married than because he was patriotic; and all the married men, I'm told Julie, are chirpin the same wheeze. Of course with you derie, its different. I don't believe you would accuse a feller of keepin another woman when his pay envelope is a nickle shy on Sat. night.

Skinny and me had a date with the Pudding Sisters at the canteen last nite, and believe you me, they was some babies, and was well worth the money we spent on 'em.

Some people we met today from Belgium say that when the Fritzies get soused, they hug and kiss every woman they meet. What a fat chance for that sweet maiden of fifty years who grabbed me off at the station, the day I left for camp. You can bet your Wrigleys that after a regiment passed her she would make a detour and catch up with the head of it again.

Yours until Eyetalian restaurants serve real wine.

BARNEY.

P.S. After readin this letter over I tho't I'd better wise you up on that date me and Skinny had with the pudding sisters at the canteen last nite. Women are so suspicious you know. I ment we went down to the canteen to get some puddin, rice and tapioca.

"B."

Dere Julie:

Your last lovin letter was rec'd by your little bright eyes in a quaint old burg in viva la France, just back of where the Yanks are making soup strainers of William the Twicer's boobs by punchin them in the kitchen with that "wooden sword of America." You know Julie, that story that the Emp has been jabbing them in the arm with about "America couldn't fite if she would, and wouldn't if she could," and tellin em also about Germany's "submarines sinking all the Yanks transports etcery etcery." If Bill keeps this up very long they will nickname him Barnum.

Speaking of William the Twospot, reminds me of what one of our boys, which was taken prisoner and escaped, wuz telling about what the Emp said when he saw so many of our boys on the front at Chato Theiry; sendin fer some of his generals he deemanded they tell him what boat brung all them Yanks over. One of 'em piped up and sed "I think, yer Majesty it was the Lusitania." Being German, it went over his bed like a air ship.

The way things are goin now, it looks as if William the Twicer is gonna have a great future behind him: Skinny sez the Klown Quince and his army reminds him very much of his (Skinny's) brother who went out west and made twenty Indians run--but the Indians couldn't ketch him. Believe you me derie, the Boches are running faster than the color in a 19 ct. pair of stockins. They are hot footin it faster than the train that I left for camp on pulled out of Grand Central Station; and that pulled out so fast that when I tried to kiss you from the window when she started, I kissed a cow ten miles away.

Well Julie dere, I miss you much believe you me. I'd rather see you just about now than a messenger with the news that piece has been sined; of course there's a lot of nice girls hear amung the Red X Nurses and Y workers, but there's so many officers and gold braids round that fellers like us dont get any more show than a dollar at a church fair.