The Washington times., 1921-05-06

strutttng rooster, under his window
of morning.
What wouldn't he give for that!
But who's going to take care of him
at home? Who would pay for the
medicines and the special food?
Mother has her work to do, and
Sister mustn't lose her Job. There
wouldn't be enough money to buy
the simplest food for the three Of
them.
Homesick-don't say the word.
Sometimes, when the suns going
down and the long shadows creep
and creep toward the hospital cot.
and the boys in wheel-chairs begin.
to talk about ma and the girls, and
somebody starts to playing on the
mouth organ. Johnny would like to
cover up his face and cry like
little boy again. And II IL at such
times as these that he gets hold Of
the ward letter writer and has him
write TO washington-again.
Oh, yes, his application is In: yes.
his case Is perfectly plain; but
somebody down there IL busy, or
tired. or sick of War Risk stun any
how-and 1t doesn't arrive-the let
ter from Washington. 1t doesn't
arrive.
BLASTED HOPES KILL MANY.
All over the country they are
dying in the hospitals, and dying
just as surely from the wounds Of
hope deferred as they died from
poison gas end field artillery In
France. Johnny's finding II hard to
understand the whole situation, or
even any part OF IT.
They promised him they would
stand by the folks" the people In
Washington. when he went into the
army.
All he had to do was to march
and obey orders and night and be
ready to- die there in No Mans
Land. night or day. morning or
evening; make death an hourly
companion and laugh In the grey
face Of danger-that's all.
Hunger and cold and wet. wounds
OF terror and hideous horror-these
were his companions there in the
trenches. But there was nothing
else to worry him.
The Government would take care
Of the folks at home, never fear.
Didn't the old flag mean anything
at all?
Wasn't there any such thing as
faith and honor and truth? He
should worry about that. Wasn't
he an American, a son of the soil,
born In it's traditions, bred in its
faith?
1t was all part of the game.
Johnny thought. You couldn't run
around the world fighting for lib
erty and freedom and leave your
women folks at home to starve.
And then wasn't he q part Of the
Government himself?
"HERO" STUFF NO sALvE.
Didn't he help elect the men in
Washington? They wouldn't dare
betray his trust, not even IL they
thought of such a thing for a min
ute. And yet
Oh. Johnny, alas for your hon
est faith! They do seem to dare so
many things, don't they? Or else
maybe you don't know how to
write to them--maybe you don't
make your case plain enough.
There's a lot OF red tape, you know
in Washington. You mustn't run
afoul OF that, Johnny. You'll get all
wound up in IT. and then
But you are sick and broken
hearted and desperate. and you
can't wait much longer for what
they promised you. You'd like to
be home with Mother and Sister
and use your honorable pension to
help them to live: and IL you wait
much longer you're afraid-you're
afraid
Tut tut, Johnny; that's no talk
from a soldier. Hold up your head:
camoufage a little; fool the doc
tors, and maybe you can get up and
come to town and beg a few cents
day somehow-till you drop dead
some time-in an alley-somewhere
and all the papers will give you
a headline and call you a hero.
And maybe somebody will take the
croix de Guerre out of your pocket.
and pin 1t to your poor, shabby
coat And they'll play Taps" over
you when they bury you: and you'll
be one OF the long. long row Of men
who have died-waiting for Wash
ington.
That ought to satisfy you. John
ny, oughtn't II?
Mother and Sister? No. they
won't be satished-they1l complain
and talk and cry and make a ter
rible fuss-you know what wom-
en- sre-you never can make them
understand, especially about Gov
eminent matters, can you. Johnny?