"Like father, like son," and I knew that she was thoroughly determined to make both of them pay dearly for their pleasant interlude. Breakfast the next morning was a rather trying ordeal. Grandfather once more resorted to his game leg with renewed vigor, referring several times to the defense of the Alamo, so I knew he was pretty low in his mind. Father withdrew at the sight of bacon. Mother laughed scornfully as he departed. My friend ate a hearty breakfast and kept a sort of a happy-go-lucky monologue throughout its entire course. I took him out walking afterward and forgot to bring him back. [Illustration: "THE FIRST THING HE DID WAS TO MIX POOR DEAR GRANDFATHER A DRINK"] _April 31st._ Have just come off guard duty and feel quite exhausted. The guns are altogether too heavy. I can think of about five different things I could remove from them without greatly decreasing their utility. The first would be the barrel. The artist who drew the picture in the last camp paper of Dawn appearing in the form of a beautiful woman must have had more luck than I have ever had. I think he would have been closer to the truth if he had put her in a speeding automobile on its way home from a road house. It surely is a proof of discipline to hear the mocking, silver-toned laughter of women ring out in the night only ten feet away and not drop your gun and follow it right through the barbed wire. After the war, I am going to buy lots of barbed wire and cut it up into little bits just to relieve my feelings. Last night I had the fright of my life. Some one was fooling around the fence in the darkness. "Who's there?" I cried. "Why, I'm Kaiser William," came the answer in a subdued voice. "Well, I wish you'd go away, Kaiser William," said I nervously, "you're busting the lights out of rule number six." "What's that?" asks the voice. "Not to commit a nuisance with any one except in a military manner," I replied, becoming slightly involved. "That's not such a wonderful rule," came back the voice in complaining tones. "I could make up a rule better than that." "Don't try to to-night," I pleaded. There was silence for a moment, then the voice continued seriously, "Say, I'm not Kaiser William really. Honest I'm not." "Well, who are you?" I asked impatiently. "Why, I'm Tucks," the voice replied. "Folks call me that because I take so many of them in my trousers." "Well, Tucks," I replied, "you'd better be moving on. I don't know what might happen with this gun. I'm tempted to shoot the cartridge out of it just to make it lighter." "Oh, you can't shoot me," cried Tucks, "I'm crazy. I bet you didn't know that, did you?" "I wasn't sure," I answered. "Oh, I'm awfully crazy," continued Tucks, "everybody says so, and I look it, too, in the daylight." "You must," I replied. "Well, good night," said Tucks in the same subdued voice. "If you find a flock of pink Liberty Bonds around here, remember I lost them." He departed in the direction of City Island.