The Challis messenger. (Challis, Idaho) 1912-current, 1918-09-11
"A Letter To
MIR. Sonebody"
BY LOUISE OLIVER
Copyright. 1918, by the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)

Philip sat thoughtfully down on the
lire step Of the trench. The German
musketry had ceased for the time and
all was quiet along the line. Three of
the men in his platoon had been
wounded and taken back to the first
aid stations behind the lines. But he
hadn't scratch.
Beside him, crouching in a variety
OF attitudes, were five of the boys
playing cards. Someone had produced
dog-eared, muddy pack, and now they
were having round of jackpots. The
entire crowd had an aggregate Of less
than dollar, all told.
Come on in, Pearson, the betting's
fine" called Dorgan. "Sky's the limit"
But Philip shook his head. st hurts
my finer feelings to see my fellow be-
ings risking their immortal souls. I
can't be party to the outrage. Be-
sides, I'm broke"
poor Phil! !" Dorgan drew three
cards. Lonely again."
"Who's he got to be lonely forY'
kearney, new to the company, didn't
KNOW fnliS history.
Nobody. That's the trouble. We
cusses here think we're killed because
we can't see our folks. But did you
ever think what it meant not to have
any folks to get homesick for? That's
Pills trouble. He just naturally hasn't
| got anybody. That's what he's think
| ing this minute. I'll bet jitney. New
er gets any mail-never hears from
anyone. BY George, here comes Bandy
now with letters. Hurrah! The nails
in, Jimmy! All those for me, chap
lain? Well, this is my day."
Philip sat stolidly on the fire step
| without moving. He knew the chap
lain had no mail for him. All the 9TH
er boys were busily tearing open let
tiers and papers and hungrily devouring
every word.
Then the chaplain stopped in front
of him and put hand ON his shoulder.
MY boy, I wonder if" He put his
other hand in his pocket and drew out
letter. Il don't approve Of this
much. I don't have any idea what's
| inside, but I'm going to leave it with
YOU"
Philip took the letter eagerly and
scanned the address. It was written in
a rather angular feminine hand on
plain white paper and directed to:
MIR. SOMEBODY,
American Expeditionary Forces,
| France.
| L
der the flap and drew out the closely
written folded pages. The letter be.
gan: Dear Mr.. Somebody: Before
you read my letter I'm going to ask
whether or not you are getting mail
from home and friends. If you are
will you please give this to someone
who is not, for this is not your letter
then, but his. I am writing to lonely
man who has no one to care about him
not to you"
| Philip paused. Strange that the
chaplain had followed the directions
so closely without di-ining the con.
tents. He turned again to the letter
Surely the letter had reached its in
tended destination. Who else had q
better right to it than he? Then sud
denly revulsion of feeling seized him
He didn't want sympathy, he didn't
want to read lot of Sunday school
stuff about patiently bearing ones lot
and being sustained by pride in what
he was doing.
His eyes ran rebelliously over the
next few words, then he read more
eagerly, and before he knew it-but lei
us read the letter.
''First Of ALL" it ran, "Tm going tc
wish family onto you, Mr.. Some
body-my family. And I'm going tC
tell you all about what we've beer
doing. Maybe you'll want to hear
about them and maybe you won't, but
I absolutely refuse to sympathize with
| your loneliness and write consolins
things like that. And as I have tC
have something to put into letter, you
will just have to be patient. And Tn
not going to introduce them. I will
speak of them as though you'd known
us all forever.
| "To begin, Mr.. Peabody finally came
across and gave Dad the position as
department head that he should have
had years ago. Oh, you don't know
what it meant to us! Or, forgot, you
do know, of course. When Dad came
home that night and told US, Buddy
stood right up in the middle of the
dining-room table and started to recite
Webster's GRAFTON, knocking over my
vase of Glove shrub, the first out of the
garden, and running bran clean table.
cloth that had taken me fOrty-seven
minutes to iron. But l was in for.
giving humOr, of course, and merely
kissed him and ordered him down
Lofty gave Dad a hug that nearly
strangled him and marched right up.
stairs and returned with everyone
everyone-mind you, Of her old dresses
| ever her arm"
"'Now, Sis she demanded, cant
| give these to the poor HarbisOns right