River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1918-07-11

4
and blocking off much of my vision,
stands red-roofed, heavy made,
stone house; beyond a bit Of mead
ow, a stone mill half concealed in
the trees, an apple tree in bloom,
then the rise of the hill; at my right
is road up which pass the peasants
coming in from the field; beside it
runs a brook-four ducks are con-
versing on it now,-big, comfort
able willows form a rampant around
a green. small meadow where few
big COWS Craze; then between the
hill and meadow runs background
of the clustered houses of the vii
lage.
Looking down the valley l can see
beyond the woods spre and the
roofs of village; beyond is bank
of forested hills, all sunlit. It's
evening, just when the sun is mel
lowist and that peaceful mood COW
ers the fields and hills and woods.
You're having this kind of an eve
ming, across there now, suppose.
| wish Oliver> were here-he's
back with the company and the rest
Of the battalion-and we could rend
this quiet beauty with friendly
quarrel over some topic neither of
us knew anything about, as we did
in the old days.
| wish | could drop in on you, dra-
matically, en- costume, with mud
turtle steel hat, a great. glazing,
horrible gas mask, my ankle length
voluminous slip coat, my ponderous
hob-nails, with a grenade in o n e
hand, a pistol in my belt, and bay
oneted rifle in the other hand. You
would set me down as Marian
visitor of some consequence. But
as we ali look alike over here, no
one notices it much. Don, Quixote
would occasion no furore if he came
through the street in his armor
and casque. Peculiar how much war
we can wear and how little we can
feel. I'm no more of a belligerent
than was when Hank and the mob
upended me and filled those pride
o'-my-heart trousers full of snow.
Possibly there's plenty of that COM
bativeness tucked away in me some.
where, and | hope I can reach it on
occasion. | was born lamb, you
know, but Fate has made me the
goat I'm not getting sorrowful.
We're too we'll fed for that and my
old straw ticks too comfortable.
Why, though | am at war, | get
more sleep now than l did this time
last spring.
In the matter of food we're as
we'll served as we were at c m p
Stuart. Of course we don't buy
apple and nut sundaes and oranges
and soul satisfying dinners in this
town, but for an ordinary fortune
we can buy delicacies like almonds,
figs and dates. Candy is rare and
fruit, too, but our commanding Of
ficers here see to it that occasional
supplies of canned pineapple, choc-
olate, gum and fruit come up Con-
trary to expectations, these figs and
dates cost more than they do at
home; but / suppose the French feel
that we rich Americans with $50 a
month might combine little philan-
thropy with our fig. buying. Wine?
yes, but | don't care much for the
cheaper red and white, can't afford
the champagne, and fear the cog
nac-so | haven't been real drunk
yet. Most of the fellows drink the
red or white wine (take from a
cask, in the kitchen, bottled and
corked in two seconds after your Or
der arrives) for the social sense one
or two quarts give. It's m t
worth drinking the bitter brew to
get that expansive fraternal, COM
prehensive sense of well-being. that
loosens tongue, heart strings and
brain -you m Y know. I'm t
tipsy now, now though it sounds
that way of course, I've had no
letters from home yet, and don't
expect any for some time, but
know you're all right Give my re-
CARDS to all the friends.
With love,
TnTTAY