Evening star., 1931-12-27

best hated buglers in the service,
wrapped his fiappy lips lovingly
around the mouthpiece and busted
the slumberirg stiffness Of the deWy
morning into a multitude of nerve-racking
echoes with the brazen braying of the old work
horn.
His slumber party ruined by the racket, Pvt.
Fiddle Face Coins dragged his sleep-craving
carcass slowly from the soft side of a hard used
bunk, and regarded the young morning with a
mean and jaundiced eye.
"Old Garmouf sho bearin' down on dat
bugle," fretted Fiddle Face, did dat livah-lip
music maniac stife his honin' foah dat wind
jammin,' f1gger us doan git hit so heavy wild all
dem squads east an west"
'Nigger, AS exeS you, wux de mules milk,
Whut you is sucked on, curdled endurin' de
whole time you bein' bottle raised?" de-
manded Slue Foot Lague, from the next bunk,
regarding the fussing Fiddle Face with hos
tile glare. Soldier when crabbin wuz jis' a
trade, you wuz artist at it. Pipe down. foah
All smacks you down. Sides, when us gifts to
Paris amt gonna be aggafretted wild no wind
jammin'."
when us gifts to Paris" prophesied his pessi-
mistic partner. "You talks lax hangover wild
de heebie jeebes"
"Ole Cap'n done say mebbe he gwina endow
us wild pass to Paris and den us gwina-"
The raucous notes of the squalling bugle
crashed through Slue Foot's day dream and
shattered it. Slue Foot dropped back to earth
with dull thud.
"Gwina git to work." Fiddle Face obligingly
finished his suspended sentence for him.
"FoolShmentS You utters Fiddle Face. Dat
amt old work horn" his brunei buddy en-
nghtened him. Oats de payday blues dat boy
is blowin.' Ole horn is warnin' us boys, serious,
not to trihe de money whut us gifts away on
drinkin' likker
THEY busted out of barracks, and joined
long and anxious line composed Of some
200 Of their fellow heroes who were waiting
fevershly, to be heavy hit by ole pay day, his
self in person.
When they had their pay, the boys planned
how to use it.
"Ah doan fool wild dem freckled luck cubes,
dats gamblin'," explained Fiddle Face. Me All
shoots q little stud poker. Depen's heavy on
nah brain. Ole Lady Luck done change her
min too frequent 'bouten whut boy she dotes
on
The stud game was on when Slue Foot edged
over to Fiddle Face, whose dropping lower lip
threatened to engulf his chin Slue Foot stood
silent, while Fiddle Face did his best to make
his busted straight, and his last 40 francs
triumph over The Shoutin Elders wired up
kings, who stood stalwart back to back.
The Shoutin' Elder holder of the majority Of
the stud horse stakes, dealing. Slue Foot
flung a franc to the center of the blanket and
loudly demanded his hole card.
When 1t hit the blanket in front of him. ne
covered it with an ape-like paw, and elevating
the nigh corner, peeked at the pip on the un-
derneath side.
'Love Lady, liz Queen OBJ Hearts, herself"
calculated Slue Foot under his breath. de
gals nevah did trif1e on me. Is always bin
dey sugah daddy. Gals, gang erbout, an All
bets you high n sleeps in de streets-ob
Paris"
Slue Foot sweated along with The Shoutin'
lI,~ ,1.~ 54~ h. -, IL
black flush, easing the betting.
"Three sweet mamas two OBJ 'em back to
back" figured Slue Foot, happily. de Shoutin'
Elder done gone soft in de haid, bettin dat
trif1in flush so hahd"
On the last deal another femme dropped de-
murely into Slue Foot's harem and smiled up
into the beaming countenance of her gambling
man with coy confidence
Elder" announced Slue Foot grandly, desc
sweethearts OBJ mine sez foah me to bet a thou
sand francs right at you.'
"Slue Foot dem wenches is bad" grinned
The Shoutin' Elder, amid a heavy shower
of fluttering francs. Calls dat love chirp den
boosts you foah de tap. See does you crave to
spend youah pay day maxim fumdiddles wild
dem vile wimmin.' Shoot, squeeze or git outen
de pot"
The resultant shock to Slue Foot's feelings
caused that worthy warrior to bat his eyes
like toad in the sun. An ugly suspicion
crept into what got by with him as brain
that, somehow. his hind sight was going to be a
whole lot better than his foresight. He
squinched up his eyelids until they squeaked
and counted The Shoutin' Elders spread three
times slow. Five, six, seven, eight of spades.
The sudden sweat of agony blurred his bugging
eyes but cleared his vision. He saw, with pain
full clearness that, was the hole card the four
or nine of spades, The Shoutin' Elder had dug
pit from which there was no escape and nat
soldier named slue Foot Lague was In seep