The Manitowoc pilot. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1859-1932, 1899-11-30
EASY BEDS In ~
~ THE ARMY.
Lessons In Diplomacy Given
by Private SevenspOt.

xTFTFTr<T<T<<TT
1T WAS Monday, September II, 1899,
The United States transport City of
fuebla was three days out from Homo
lulu, Oh her voyage to Manila. She car
ried $50 recruits for Uncle Sans regu
lars in the Philippines. Of these, about
400 were new men, some 200 saw serv-
ice in the volunteers a year ago and
probably SO were old-time regulars.
The men were scattered about the decks
in all sorts of lounging attitudes. The
monotony of the voyage was beginning
to tell on the new men, most of whom
could be identified by their listlessness,
a growing disposition to grumble at
trifes, and "a tendency towards sloven-
illness in dress and lack of personal
cleanliness. On the other hand, the ex-
volunteers kept themselves fairly tidy
and were the most cheerful element on
board. There was a large novel-read-
ing contingent among them, the mem
bers of which were to be found squat
ting on their launches in corners of the
bulkheads, immersed in paper-covered
penny y-dreadfuls. Back at the Presidio
the Red Cross people had given each
man handy little housewife contain
ing needles, thread and buttons. The
buttons were now serving to relieve the
tedium of the voyage for many of the
volunteers, who were shooting craps
and playing poker for them with as
orIo
sented silver dollar. There were
among the ex-voluuteers. besides the
novel readers and card players num-
ber of good singers and these gathered
on the forecastle, where they sang half
the day and evening through. The
songs ran all the way from the senti-
mental to the suggestive. One moment
it was "Where Is My Wandering Boy
Tonight" and the next THAT Broid
cred Petticoat My Maggie Wore" Then
singer with talent for improvisation
would cut in with a made-to-order song
about the transport, and all would join
in on the chorus and gleefully roar.
And then some one who had been tu-
tored by an old service man would
start the old-time wall Of the First cav
airy Indian fighters:
Woe is me,
With no whiskee,
Wofully dry am l:
Damn the day
ran away
And jined the cavalrye
A class apart and distinct from both
the new recruits and the eX-volunteers
oda Of ha old sp1diarC
board. They were scattered here and
there in pairs or groups of three or four.
AS a rule, they had as little to say as SO
many deaf mutes. They were cheerful
ly Indifferent to all that was going on
about them, and always busy in a lazy,
we've-got- three e-years-to-do-it-in sort of
way with some trivial task. In this re-
spect they resembled the ships crew,
who were always making or unmaking
ropes or painting or scraping paint off,
more than they did the younger sol
diers.
In one group an old soldier was scour-
ing his mess pan with sand that Le must
have brought all The way from San
Francisco, another was sewing ON
button, third was polishing the brass
on his cartridge belt, and a grizzly
bearded old veteran was trimming his
whiskers. The old soldier with the mess
pan would peck away at faint speck of
rust in a ridiculously indolent fashion,
considering the insigniticance of the
task. And then he would hold the mess
pan up to the sun and inspect 1t, this
way and that, with the air of an art
critic viewing a masterpiece. Then he
would tackle another faint rust speck
and kill another half hour in tenderly
obliterating it. The old veteran with
the kinky whiskers started to trim his
beard Immediately after morning mess
and completed his task just in time for
dinner. He trimmed each hair individ-
ually, and took a careful survey of his
cherished Van Dyck in a small pocket
mirror after each application of the
shears. During the entire operation he
spoke but once and that was 10 remark:
''They say vultures don't like hairs in
their victuals.'
The old soldier with the mess pan
stopped securing long enough to re-
ture, if you We're ever so clean-shaved."
But as result of all this listless and
apparently aimless industry these old
soldiers, rough and tough in appear
ance and wearing uniforms that had
seen better days, were the cleanest ard
most spick and span men aboard the
transport. Seated comfortably on the
forecastle deck, with his back against
the capstan, Private Sevenspot, of the
'Steenth infantry, carefully polished
the bowl, of briar pipe and admin
iStered occasional doses of much-need-
ed advice TO an ex-volunteer for whom
he had formed a liking.
Jack, me bye" said Sevenspot, Most
nv tn min phwat get in throuble in tn
army trip thimsilves over their own
tongues. An they do be loike Jerry
Bolster's watchdog, phwat barked
iverry noight and thin, av coorse, whin
tn burglars really KEN. Jerry got up