Evening journal., 1917-04-24
BY PATRICK McGILL.
Written for The United Press

written Tor Inc Onteu IIeSs
LONDON. April 10 (By MaiD.-
That my mate Spudhole was in love
again did not surprise me. That he
wanted me to write a love poem suit
able for the occasion was to be eX-
pected That l did what he desired
was inevitable. for | loved Spudhole
as a brother. 1t was an easy matter
anyhow for / took the last poem and
merely changed the girls name. At
the last billet the maiden's name was
Pascale. now it was Fiji. The sylla-
bles were the same in number, and
interfered in no way with the rythm.
Spudholes meteoric love affairs gem
orally prospered; he had a fresh bird
in every billet and he also had one at
home in London. The latter girl was a
fixed star, far away, but one day when
the war Is at end he VIII marry her.
So he says.
Spudhole was a dandy lover, and
a generous one. When his heart was
succumbed to the sparkling eyes of
a girl. his clothes assumed fresh
importance in his eyes, and his hat
badge disappeared as it had oiten
disappeared before. Every quartermas-
ter.sergeant knows that when hat
badge is indented as lost in action a
heart is lost in France.
| handed the poem, the old poem
with the girls name changed over
to Spudhole. He read IL out and ap-
proved of It; he read it to the girl and
she approved of it. His heart was lost
to the girl from now, and OF course
his hat badge followed his heart Two
days later when we were sitting IN
our billets cleaning our rifles, Spud-
hole spoke to me.
"Wot dye fink she wants now?" he
blurted. "Annuver sooveneer. A sha-
poo Boche! A 'elmet. an Allemong
'elmet!"
What are you going to do about
it?" ! queried
I'm goin' to get 'er one.' he said.
when do we leave for the trenches?"
he inquired
Tomorrow night" 7 remarked $50
the rumour has II, and as the rumour
is officially contrad.cted by the, SER
geant believe it,
well, I'm gOin' to get 'er that 'el-
met" said Spudhole "Wotever l says
III do. that's me. Once 'ad a little
kitten pet kitten. and it was in the
trenches Allemong sniper shot IL.
| said I'd kill ten of the swine for that
little kitten and for every man I'd
kill I'd make a nick in my 'ipe. Didn't
! say so?"
'"You did. Spudhole." | remarked
looking at the four hicks on the butt
OF his rife
We'll, I'm goin to get that ere 'el-
met" he said. Next time I'm up in
the trenches Allemong 'elmet, tray
bon sooveneer. I'll get Fiji an 'elmet
Straight / will or die, for ! never go
back on my word"
That the German helmet is Tom.
my's legitimate souvenir is an un-
written law Of the trenches which
even Kings Regulations will not gain
say. / have seen soldiers weep when
they captured Germans who had the
audaci;y to surrender in forage caps
A prisoner with a helmet is worth a
dozen without.
or course Spudhole got his helmet
the souvenir for Fiji. He procured il
when out on a night raid. lost sight
OF my mate when we reached the
German trenches. and we returned
with few prisoners. only to, find that
Spudhole was not with US. What had
happened? Had he been killed?
Two long hours after our return
Spudhole crawled in alone from the
splendid isolation OF No Mans Land
/ helped him over the parapet.
Have you got your helmet?"
asked.
"I ave" he said. "A 'elmet and
something else to go on wiv; pac
ket in my left shoulder. But I've
brought my 'ipe back" he said. %
'ad TO crawl all the way"
I helped TO dress his wound. a jam
my one that held possibilities oi
Blighty. When I had finished he asked
for my knife handed it to him.