A story comes from France of a Marine who had been acting as orderly for a lieutenant. The officer sent him on an errand, and when he returned the lieutenant was nowhere about. A poilu, who happened to be loitering in the vicinity, was questioned by the Marine: "Have you seen the lieutenant?" "Oui, monsieur, oui," replied the poilu, proud of his newly acquired Marine Corps English, "he have--what you call--pushed over." ---- HOW ABOUT THEM? ---- Things that make all the difference in the world:-- A letter from ---- (fill in name to suit yourself.) A real soap-and-hot-water bath. A real shave. Dry feet. American tobacco. "Good work!" from the skipper. A home-town paper less than a month old. "Seconds" on coffee--when it's made right. Pay-day. ---- YANKEE AVIATORS PLAY IN LUCK ---- Dead Engine Sneezes and Picks Up after a 2,000 Meter Drop. ---- SKY FULL OF CREAM PUFFS. ---- Observer Who Fails to Surround Something Hot Faints From the Cold. ---- Those were American boys who dodged Boche air patrols, laughed at anti-aircraft guns and spattered bombs upon Rombach and Ludwigshafen far behind the Boche lines. One of them used to be a Presbyterian minister, the Rev. Joseph Wilson, of Wheeling, W. Va., another is Bud Lehr, of Albion, Neb., who played center on a basketball team that won the State championship. The others are Charles Kinsolving and Charles Kerwood, of Philadelphia, and George Kyle, of Portland, Ore. They are corporals in a French flying squadron situated within an hour's flight of an American infantry training camp. Seated around the rough mess table in their popotte--a tiny building stuck away on a ledge of rock under a cliff--they told all about the bombing of the railroad stations and ammunition factories at Rombach and Ludwigshafen. "The old Boche almost got me that time," said Lehr, lifting the oil cloth table cover to knock wood. "The engine of my boat died on me just over Rombach. I pulled everything in sight and kicked every lever I couldn't see. Nothing doing; anti-aircraft shells bursting right on a level with me. We began to drop. I turned around to the observer and pulled a sea-sick grin. A Sneeze Spelled Joy. "'It's all off, kid,' he said. 'Looks like we're through.'