Judge — December 1, 1917 — page 16: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

T H By E MISTLETOE WALDRON FINE CHAP, that Leftenant marked Captain dish. splendid push Uncle Samuel has sent over to us.’ “He's a bit of all right—all right—full weight and sterling metal,” responded Lieutenant Thresher. “And the surgeon tells me he will have a perfectly- practical jaw again in good time,” It was Christmas morning. The speakers, British soldiers, were passing through a hall in a French chateau given over to convalescent officers of the Allies to a lounging room which these two shared with the American of whom they were talking confidentially. “His bravery saved a company, I hear,” added Cavendish. “Yes. It's altogether rotten that such a man should have ill fortune in another vital direction. I've heard he had a quarrel with his wife over his coming over here and that she left him.” “Rotten? I think a chap’s a lot better off, you know, quit of such a woman. She couldn't have been the right sort. Why didn’t she come over herself? My word! There's plenty to do here for the fair! Even for that stunning V. A. D. girl the sur- geon just pointed out to us. She is apparently from some fine family, propelled here by sheer enthusiasm, and though she may not be adept at duties that fall to a nurse in the thick of things, she helps a bi “So? You like her looks—what?" “T'll never become a nut, but don’t we all like the beautiful? And what could be more inspiriting to an invalid than a pretty woman? She makes one think of the things one has lost for the erling, ch?” re- “Typical of the Jenowfe] moment—a brilliant sky, bracing air, flowers, the birds, music, and all that sort of thing, you know.” “Much of the unattainable—yes. a girl, you know, and she i “Wait until Leftenant Sterling sces this darling! he'll forget his loss.” “Well, she’s due to visit us, no doubt. you'll have a relapse from this moment, old dear!” Thresher, chuckling, worried along on his crutch cane. As they entered the rendezvous they saw Sterling sitting by a window none too cheerful, apparently. He brightened as he turned to greet them dumbly, for the lower part of his face was closely bandaged. “By Jove!” said Cavendish, as he and Thresher disposed themselves in easy chairs, “I’m about fed up on this beastly quict! I'd like to be this minute where everything is splash and swish and top-hole! If our friend from across the deep were to express himself to the same effect—which he cannot, with his vocal apparatus out of commission and in bondage—he would preface it with a ‘Believe me!’ I fancy. That's your American phrase, eh?” Sterling bowed. He must have smiled beneath the bandages. His eyes betrayed an amused appreciation of the Englishman’s adoption of an Americanism. “Comfortable as it aid Thresher, “it is decidedly tran- quii—really it’s beastly quict, I agree. And one of you, per- haps both, will be back strafing those blighters on the Flanders But when a man marries I fancy And [ll warrant And and comicbooks.,gom