The Waterbury Democrat., 1944-03-30

and by far better reporters than I.
Suffice it, that only the magic of
Henry James's trumpet, (picked
up, just after the Warning broad
cast ceased, prevented me from
dashing into the hall and seeking
a partner for a dance which has
long slipped from my toes.
1t was interesting to catch James
right after the Waring show for
they both have their following and
they both have their fervent and
vociferous fans. But possibly I'm
different, think they're both tops.
Both Of them give me that wistful
"Oh, to be young again just for to-
night" sort of feel, and I can now
understand the witnessed-by- myself
mobbing of the Paramount Theater,
about year ago, by James's fans
who had been lined up outside, and
all along 43rd street to Eight Ave-
nue., waiting to get in to a James
personal appearance scheduled to
open at 900 o'clock.
The James program last Thurs.
day came to its close, and Bob
Burns comedy, more suited to my
easy-going ways, engaged my at
tention reused my risibilities and
filled my heart with merriment.
Quite ready I am to admit that,
maybe Bob is not the equal of the
late Will Rogers, and quite possibly
his humor is. little forced, and
some of his jokes may be unadulter-
ated 10 Miller; but that makes no
difference to me. I like Bob Burns,
and his rambling way which would
make a half hour seem short to
man dangling from rope at the tip
of a gibbet.
Last Thursday I got great kick
out of Bob and particularly war
correspondent who was guest on the
program, which as you all know is
sponsored by soap manufacturer.
The correspondent, recently back
from overwhelmingly his name
slipped me-was natural for the
occasion. He was able to tell how
soap was the most highly priced
commodity in Italy when he had
been there. I got kick out of that
for I recalled my experience OF my
own when was foot-slogging over
Africa in the last war, and my ma
tive boy, Watutubira, fell i'll, either
truly, or lead swinging. Fell Ill he
did, dammit, and was sent back to
military hospital, while I contin-
ued on a six weeks march with the
regiment in which we covered over a
thousand miles.
Now Watutubira, it must be adj
mitted was a bit of a Scoundrel, and
all the better man to have in the
field because of that. He had been
with me for about year before I
joined up early in April 1917, in a
place called Kampala in Uganda. He
was a tough hombre who understood
perfectly that I perfectly understood
him, and his proclivites for light
fingered work were kept well under
control while he was under my eye
But at that he but that's too
long to tell here.
At any rate Watutubira was sent
back to a distant base, and when
he went he had nothing with him
but his uniform, which consisted
of shorts, shirt, tarboosh, puttees
and a pair of shoes which he wore
more for swank than comfort, and
which he always swung around his
neck by the laces when he was on
the march. He wore also leather
belt and carried a water bottle and
machete. That was all. He had no
money, no jewelry. nothing but an
identification card which entitled
him to food, etc. He wasn't paid by
the army, but by me personally. He
didn't want a check, he told me
when he left me. could give him
that when he returned.
didn't see him for many weeks.
One day he turned up blithe and
clipper, having picked up my trail
God knows how. He was laden with
loot. In addition to his red tar
boosh he had two white replace
ments, one of embroidered linen,
one handmade lace; three kanzus
"a long night-shirt-type of outer
garmenD Of Cd embroidered white
linen, "a plain white liner, (3)