The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1943-08-13

ing the creases in his trousers.
"Going somewhere, I take it,"
asked Private Clarkin, the Jersey
milkman.
Private Zuber grinned happily,
and nodded. He donned his fresh
clothing, gave his necktie several
unnecessary tugs, and combed his
hair for the twelfth time.
Private McGlauflin, late Of the
Minneapolis bar, laid down his copy
Of the Bartender's Guide and sat
up on his bunk. Didn't you know"
he asked. "Zuber's girls come
down from Rochester. They're 60
ing riding"
"That's a fine thing crowed
Clarkin. ~ haven't been for spin
since I've been here. Get your
shoes on, Hargrove. And straight
en- your name plate, McGlaufiin. We
must make good impression on our
guest :"
"You sure are a pleasant sur
prise, man," Clarkin prattled on
to the pretty girl in the front seat.
Fancy Ben Zuber even knowing
anybody like you. You should see
the homely looking things he brings
to the dances here"
She smiled a polite thank-you at
Clarkin and glanced sharply at Zu-
Der. II never could even get him
to the dances at home," she said.
''He wouldn't even look at the girls
at all. Would you, dear?"
mo, ma'am," groaned the mar
tyred Zuber, who spent almost all
his evening hours writing letters to
Rochester.
"Just to look at Ben," said Nc
Glaufin, YOU'D never think such a
quiet-seeming boy could raise so
much devil. It constantly amazes
me-"
Private Zuber's girl friends smile
was not so spontaneous this time,
and there was baleful CLEAN In
her glance at poor Benjamin. ''What
have you been doing, dear?" she
asked with terrible gentleness.
Private McGlauflin went on GLIB
ly. "Tell her about the time you
got tight in Fayetteville and tried
to take the policeman's hat away
from him, Benz"
The one-girl audience was
shocked. Her expression, as she
looked at Zuber, was one Of anxiety
and doubt.
Clarkin began again. "And the
terrible fight he had that time
ooof!" McGlauflin gave him q
hearty dig in the ribs. To make sure
that 1t had registered and created
sufficient horrible curiosity in the
feminine mind, he repeated it.
Private Zuber, guiltless but help
less, dropped his shoulders further
as the terrible ride continued.
Here's the Service Club, DEAR" he
finally said. "Shall we GO in and
have something to drink" He gave
the three Of US a pathetically be-
seeching glance.
''They don't sell lemon extract in
there, Zuber," I suggested. Clarkin,
McClaufin and I exchanged looks
that purposed to show hidden
knowledge Of another terrible para
graph In the collapse Of the soul Of
Benjamin Zuber.
We sat at a table In the Service
Club drinking the sodas our victim
bought for us. Clarkin looked long
at his glass Of water.
'The sight Of water" he re-
marked, reminds me Of what the
sergeant was telling Ben last week
about daily bathing"
McGlaufiin took pity on the inno-
cent Zuber, who was dying for a
cause he knew not. ''We'u have
to be going. We have things to do
and ] imagine you two young peo-
pie want to enjoy each others COM
pany."
EYES," said Zuber's fiancee slow
ly. ben and I have so much to
talk about" Private Zuber shud-
dered and his shoulders slumped
tragically.
eve certainly have enjoyed the
afternoon" crowed Clarkin. Love
ly time"
One Of the first people looked up
when I went to Charlotte on leave
was Ward Beecher Threat, who
writes column Of sorts for the Sat
urday edition Of the Charlotte News.
"Well, Hargrove," began the post
card philosopher, shows the Army
agreeing with you? I've been ach-
ing to find out what you've been do
ing" This was subtle slam at my
column.
"Well, all things considered" I
began.
Nothing like the Army" said
Ward Beecher. II wouldn't take q
million dollars for the time spent
in it. Nobody'd offer me a million
anyway. Have you got rating YETI"
"Well-" I began again.
s'Lord, did have my ups and
downsl Got all the way up to SER
geant three times and was busted
three times-for the good Of the
service" He paused to light another