Evening star., 1931-12-27

eroun' to tell you 'bouten dat, suh Us is
private"
There was a moaning sound in the air; the
shrek Of landing shell, and the staff car
pnged as a flying fragment of shell case
crashed through the hood.
The general wasn't scared, much He merely
remembered that he had lot of unfinished
business to attend to in brigade dugout, and,
like a sensible man. went and tended to it.
Staff wasn't anybodys damphools. Their
standing orders were to rally round the general
They rallied.
Having used up too much alibis in the past,
and craving distance, rather than duty, the
colored contingent from a standing start made
mile in something less than minute, f1gur-
Ing the ration cart as something of handicap
to flying
See kin you stop youah big mouf wild
ratlons, ordered Slue Foot "us eat whut
chicken dey is. Nutrifes de Bush boys heavy
wild timed puddin." AS he threw back the
tarp which covered the contents of the cart
the note of exultation in his voice changed
to vail of woe. "Ole Gineral is done done us
boys dirt. Ole chow cart done loaded wild
canned COW, cast iron crackers, an dem trifn
termaters. ig out dem Bush boys an us sees
kin dey eat dat trash"
"Heah Is de vittles," he informed them, a
oaleful glare in his eyes. "Nutrify youah
selves Is you got hog blood in you now is
de time to show hit"
Dem boys wuz hongry," pronounced Fiddle
Face, after critical and extended observation
OF the German grub -gorging contest Dat
leastest lii runty boy, wild de foolish face musta
been bad unet since he bohn Floats an issue
OBJ foah cans OBJ dat wed meat on de six
cans OBJ termaters whut de done drunk Kaiser
on crutch! Graves to view dat bow when de
belly ache kotch him"
Does you fgger dem feedin' fools kin tote
whut dey is et" suggested Fiddle Face, "us
herds 'em in, an lets Ole Cap'n gaze on dem
VIOLIN wondahs. Mebbe aftah he sees dem
perform, kin he believe whut he sees he ain't
rave eroun bouten us clutterin' up de mess
lines so long endurin' chow time"
Down narrow lane, beneath the low hung
sum- marched very military procession In
front, and showing the ration cart with one
hand, while with the other hand they held up
their breeches, from which the suspenders had
been removed, trudged the German prisoners
On the right flank, armed with three German
rifles, hung the ferocious Fiddle Face He
Kept an anxious eye and three bayonets upon
the Bush boys Slue Foot brought up the rear
tween his teeth
large Military Gar drew up behind the
procession. The soldier at the wheel of the
car honked the horn impatiently and raced
the engine: The militarHaprooession ignored
his fuss. The boy at tbs Wheel of the large
car steamed up. He thrust his head out Of
the window Of the car and erupted into violent
language. .@
slue Foot turi.sesa sewly and faced the wratbv
driver OF the car. He spat the cold steel from
beneath his teeth, and eyed the boy with
naughty composure
"Whut foah you maxim all dat racket bout,
Ill ole white boy?" he demanded, coldly CANT
you see us heroes is got military matters whut
Is in swivet to be tended to? Cease dat
clattermint, boy
Another head emerged, turtle wise, from the
shadowy interior Of the car.
'Lawd Gawd!' gasped the fustered Fiddle
Face as he caught q glimpse of the too well
known and scowling countenance. "Oe Gin
eral, hisself, whut di cart belong to. Gineral,
howdy, suh."
"Howdy hell, you half witt" beloved the
general, his wattles shaking with wrath I've
been honking that horn for an hour, trying
to get this street parade moved out of my
way. And another thing. That ration cart is
my personal property"