Judge — January 3, 1920 — page 29: what you’re looking at

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

Consider My Lily By Retuceronn Rexste hing to marry a wealthy girl with a lhe That is what I should have done in the first place, as soon as I had sewed on my red chevron and clanked up Broadway, a German helmet in one hand, and a German gas siren in the other. Like a fool, I looked for work. I shall never forgive myself. I do not like work. [never have, and I never shall. Yet the Army has done wonderful things It made that bubble-head, Joe Gish, a sergeant and it made me so absent-minded that [ went out hunting a job the day after I was discharged If | had got one, my mother would have fined me two-thirds of three months’ pay, and dis: owned 1 She does not believe in miracles. But since IT met my Lily, all is as it should be Ocean T cannot The trip from France befuddled me. trips are senseless things, anyway understand why people take them freely, unless they have a strong reason—a bottle of cognac or something of the sort—calling to them from Sea voyages interfere with my meals. and offer no variety of scenery. After the ship is out of sight of lar much as you are going to see for the rest of the wross the se: Wcan see as trip. There really is no pleasure in going farther. About all they are good for are those interested in uplifting movements. The sea is « wonderful uplifter. I know it uplifted in me oe Gish, “ Fifi” O'Brien, E. J. Stewart, and I were sprawled on the binnacle, abaft: the scuppers, and a little to the right of the star. board rail, A tornado was blowing out of the castor maybe it was the west. It is hard to tell cast from west when you have not got Fifth Avenue to guide you. It is, you know We were talking about what we were going to do when we got home to the land where it does not rain all the time, and there is no mud to write about.” “Tm tellin’ vou.” says Joe Gish; “it’s gonna Drown by KR. B. Foun “ How'd ye like to chase that eat, Fido?” \ Passinc Faxcy ard for us fellers who’s been through death aun’—an’—"” Phe delouser,” adds E. J You know what I mean,” Joc continues. To find work when we get home.” “Well,” says “Fifi,” “you're a sargint, ain’t you? You've always been able to find enough work for me in the past year. Seems to me like you ought to be able to detail yourself to do something—just once.” “Sounds reasonable,” says I “No kiddin’, though,” says E. J.; “from what I hear, it must be terrible hard to get a job back home. All the girls has taken us men’s places. When I git my dirty ol’ discharge, I'll tell the world I’m on the war-path for a job.” le, too,” says “Fifi.” And Joe Gish echoes him I was impressed. Later, on the main hatch, I asked a comrade in service what he was going to do when he got home, and he said, “Work.” Still later, both for’ard of the taff rail and aft of the crow’s nest, I asked other com- rades, and they said, “ Work.” The frightfulness of the war began to dawn on me. All the returning soldiers were going to work. Three weeks later 1 was discharge After the family had dried their teats, and had asked me how I liked France, and how many Germans T had killed or wounded, I put on a serious face and said to father: “I hear it is hard to get work. Is that so?”” He said, yes, it was very hard to get work. I met Mr. Lipman, and said: “I hear it is difficult to get work. Is that so? He said it was very difficult to get work. I met Mr. Wood, and said: “T hear it is im- possible to get work. Is that so?” He said it was very impossible to get work I decided to look for work I spent two weeks looking for work, and was 29 surprised to find how utterly impossible it was. My friends were true friends. They had not lied to me and discouraged me with false hopes. Standing in front of the Public Library on Fifth Avenue, I was fingering in my pocket for some loose change to give the Salvation Army, when a voice called, “Ed Ward! T turned. It was Lily, my Lily, with whom I had fought before the war. Never had I realized what a really beautiful girl Lily was. The completeness of her charms struck me some twenty minutes after in the Waldorf. We were having mess in the Waldorf. Lily had invited me. No line, no mess kits She knows how hungry us id not, she does now. seconds galore! soldiers will get. If she T'll say so. “What are you doing these days, Lily?” I asked. “Up at Teachers College yet?” “Oh, dear, no,” said Lily. “I’m working.” “You're what?” I demanded. “Working,” she replied sweetly. “Working for father. He did quite well during the war. I'm his private secretary “So you're a private, ch?’ “Uh-huh.” *So’m: 1.” “Two privates,” she smiled wistfully “What do you say if we have a private wedding?” [asked in a military manner. “Ohl... I! © YOU esces0 Thereupon I d her. Already, I can see myself sunk in a big easy chair, with Joe Gish to roll my cigarettes, Fifi” to carry me to the waiting motor, E. J. to carry me from the waiting motor, and other comrades doing light duty about the hou: I will give them all jobs—S1.10 a day and keep. I am a whole army of occupation, I am. Only—I should have thought of that sooner. Me Lily comicbooks.com