embarrassed by the voluble replies which their carefully studied phrases bring forth from French lips. Just now the tables are frequently turned, and the Frenchman or woman is puzzled by the fluent American vernacular. An example:
Yankee Trooper – “Parly-voo English, mademoiselle?”
French Maid – “Yes, a vairl leetle.”
Yankee Trooper – “Good work! Say, could you put me wise where I could line up against some good eats in this burg?”
HIS MASTER’S VOICE
Captain (sharply) – “Button up that coat.”
Married Recruit (absently) – “Yes, my dear.”
ELEGY WRITTEN IN A BELGIAN DOORYARD
The Crown Prince mourns the passing of “The Day,”
“The low-down herd winds back to Germany.
“The loot-squad homeward plods its swagless way,
“And leaves the world to Peace and Victory.
“Now fades the glimmering Weltmacht on the sight,
“And all the air a solemn stillness holds,
“Save where the Kaiser wheels his bonehead flight,
“And frowsy princelings streak for distant folds.
“Save that from Nauen’s undismantled tower
“The moping Hun does to the Yanks complain
“Of such as, having tasted of his power,
“Decline to load him up with grub again.
“Beneath those powdered walls, that abri’s shade,
“Where blasted dug-outs hide a mouldering heap,
“Each in his nameless hole forever laid,
“The Kultur-spreaders of the Rhineland sleep.
“For them no more the Louvain fires shall burn,
“Or strafing Zepp’lins ply their evening care;
“No Yank machine-guns shall their fire return,
“Or Anzac bayonets drive them from their lair.
“Oft did the poilu sweep them from the field,
“Their line full oft the stubborn English broke:
“How frantic did they to the doughboys yield!
“How bowed their ranks to Foch’s giant stroke!
“Now let Derision mock their fiendish toil,
“Their swinish joys, and destiny obscure;
“Let ransomed Europe, with a peaceful smile,
“Collect her war-debts from the vanquished boor.
WHEN PRESIDENT WILSON LAUGHED
No doughboy in the charming Champs Elysees theater, Paris, laughed harder than President Wilson when the “Argonne players” put all officers on the gridiron. It was Broadway’s own 77th division that presented a snappy bill before the dignified peace commissioners with the exception of Col. House, who was ill. The play was entitled “Annex Revue, 1918.”
Here are some of the sallies at which Mr. Wilson laughed:
“If they don’t send me home soon I’ll be so full of service stripes that I’ll look like a zebra.”
“I don’t mind if they miss me over there, just so the Germans miss me over here.”
“Paris girls – take it from me – they take it from you. One girl took my identification tag. She thought it was a franc.”
“By the time you pay your insurance and allotment you owe yourself money.”
The division’s song, “They Didn’t Think We’d Do It, but We Did,” will soon be heard on Broadway.
BEEF, MILK AND BEER
A cow strayed one day between the German and the English trenches. Both sides coveted the cow for its milk and meat, but it was sure death to go out and get the cow. So the English threw a note wrapped around a stone into the German trenches: “You throw a mark in the air, we will shoot at it. If we hit it, it is our cow. If we miss, we will throw a shilling in the air. If you hit it, the cow is yours.” In a few moments a sign was lifted over the German trenches reading “O. K.,” and a mark shone in the air. But Tommy missed. Then a shilling flashed and Fritz missed. Five marks and five shillings flashed in the air and all were missed. Finally the sixth mark flashed and Tommy “scored.” Up came a sign from the German trenches: “Cow is yours, but we want our marks.” So Tommy went out, picked up the shillings and marks and carried the marks over to the German trenches. “Good shot,” came from a Teuton. “Here is some beer for you,” and out came six bottles of beer, which Tommy took over to the English lines – with the cow!
TOO BAD SHE HADN’T MORE SONS
Two men riding in a street car were talking about the war. “Well, how much longer do you think this thing will last?” asked one of the men of his friend. “Pretty hard to tell,” was the answer. “But as for me it can go right on for years. I’m making big money out of it all right.” And he looked it!
A well-dressed middle-aged woman sat next to the man who had just spoken and, as he finished his speech, she took off her gloves, stood up and hit the man a stinging blow across his face. “That is for my boy in France,” she said; and before he could recover she hit him another one, and added: “And that is for my other boy who is about to sail.”
Then she sat down, while the red-faced man looked about at a carful of people whose approving glances of the woman’s act led him to feel that he had better leave the car. —Ladies’ Home Journal.
WHY HE GOT THIRTY DAYS
Everything was ready for kit inspection; the recruits stood lined up ready for the officer, and the officer had his bad temper all complete. He marched up and down the line, grimly eyeing each man’s bundle of needles and soft soap, and then he singled out Private MacTootle as the man who was to receive his attentions.
“Tooth-brush?” he roared.
“Yes, sir.”
“Razor?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hold-all?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hm! You’re all right, apparently,” growled the officer. Then he barked:
“Housewife?”
“Oh, very well, thank you,” said the recruit amiably. “How’s yours?”
TIME TO SWEAR OFF
A British officer who was inspecting the line in Flanders came across a raw-looking yeoman.
“What are you here for?” asked the officer.
“To report anything unusual, sir.”
“What
