Get up and powder, rouge and curl And dress—no matter how— But don’t be late for reveille, You’re in the Army now. Get up, you foozle, ninny, boob, There’s eggs and cheese and ham (For officers) and slum for you, You slave of Uncle Sam. But don’t you fret or don’t you fume, For honest Injun! How Would you have felt if you were not In Uncle’s Army now? RAY L. HUFF, Pvt., M.D. FULL DIRECTIONS We saw them, but we did not need to ask where lay the Front; Their clothes were neat and rolls aback, well made; They marched with faces wrinkled, not by smiles or many frowns, Betokening men determined, unafraid. Once more we saw them, needing not to ask where lay the Front; Their clothes were soiled, and packs in careless roll; They, greeting, made their way along with faces tired yet bright, Betokening men who fought with heart and soul. We need not hear the cannon’s boom to know where action lies, Nor yet to seek until we find the place, For map and compass, signboard, news we’re ever getting from The look upon the passing poilu’s face. DANIEL TURNER BALMER, A.S. ON LEARNING FRENCH Like silver bells heard in a mist, Or moonstone echoes from some brook Where silver birches wall a nook, Or like sea ripples moon-lit kissed, Or like a lake of silver ledges Where iris water-lilies lave, Or like some lark’s translucent wave Of song above white hawthorn hedges, The maiden ripples French to me; But I am like an argonaut In some mute agony of thought, Lost in sound’s sweet tranquillity. ALFRED J. FRITCHEY, Camp Hospital 30. “WHO SAID SUNNY FRANCE?” It lies on your blankets and over your bed, There’s mud in the cover that covers your head, There’s mud in the coffee, the slum, and the bread— Sunny France! There’s mud in your eyebrows, there’s mud up your nose, There’s mud on your leggins to add to your woes, The mud in your boots finds its place ’twixt your toes— Sunny France! _Oh, the grimy mud, the slimy mud, the mud that makes you swear, The cheesy mud, the greasy mud, that filters through your hair._ You sleep in the mud, and drink it, that’s true; There’s mud in the bacon, the rice, and the stew, When you open an egg, you’ll find mud in it, too— Sunny France! There’s mud in the water, there’s mud in the tea,