Adventure Magazine Cover, April 3, 1918 — page 185: what you’re looking at

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

The Camp-Fire in June, married in June and my boy was born in June, the last-named event taking place while I was still well within my teens, the second, after I’d entered my teens by a very few years indeed. I don’t know why I married so young unless some one whispered in my ear that men were getting scarce. So that now I have a boy who says he is big enough to eat pie off my head. TOOK a business course after my marriage when reverses came and finished the course in three months and three weeks. Have two records on the typewriter—nobody gave them to me, I took them myself. One is erratic touch and the other is the discovery of the greatest number of new ways to make mistakes every day. I might possibly do better work on the machine if I could bring myself down to less of a hurry in doing things. But—there is so much to do and be seen in this little old: world and I’ve barely touched the edges. [VE been from ocean to ocean, dipped in one and rode on the other. Love Colorado and am going to camp out in its mountains before I’m many years older. I started to write five years ago—did three stories the first year, three or four the next and about the same the next, for two years I’ve been working at it fairly regularly for me. I came to Chicago seven years ago, weighing one-hundred and thirty-three pounds—and look at me now, darn it! I’m American to the backbone and beyond. Dad served three years in the Civil War, entering when he was sixteen, and two mater- nal uncles served, one being killed in battle, so ’m not a bit neutral now—nor was I before we entered this war, and my greatest hope is that it doesn’t end till the Kaiser is licked. I think I shall remain at thirty-five years old— permanently, and I love to laugh. S I told you, the incident on the Atlantic City pier in my story “When Jim Came Into His Own” was taken from an actual occurrence. The man who did it is six feet four and weighs two hundred and forty pounds, and when the little event was finished the only thing to show that he’d been at all deeply interested, was that his cigar lay at his feet, bitten in two. He nearly converted me to spiritualism—or something—for he is the only per- son I ever knew who could materialize out of thin air. I'll take a vow that I’ve been on the street and no one in sight for two blocks in four directions and in an instant he has stood beside me, looking about like Billy Penn on the Philadelphia City Hall. Here’s hoping to our acquaintance being freely and long continued—LoTTA ADELE GANNETT, wae from our comrade, Harry C. Winters, now convalescent from hos- pital from England. Tommy need not worry. Our boys will, like the Canadians, come across with the deeds he’s asking for. Hold up your end, Tommy, and our boys will hold up theirs. You’ve too many deeds behind you to let yourself get worried by other people’s words, And I hope Comrade Winters, Australian, knows that one of America’s—and Canada’s—national 183 games is kidding, and that when you play that game you don’t let it worry you. Also, comrade, don’t forget that the Aus- tralians rank as high as talkers as they do as blamed good fighters, Nevertheless your advice is sound and doubtless needed. Stick together? Of course, Live clean? You bet it’s necessary, Alnwick, England. Evidently my last two letters miscarried, prob- ably strafed by U-boats. Left hospital and am now in the running again, expecting to go back to the front shortly. I’m glad Uncle Sam has taken a hand. It should expedite matters. The first contingent got a very warm welcome; the people rose to the occasion. Seem men of fine physique; if they are as good as they look, should give a good account of themselves. z ONE thing I’d warn the boys of is this: Don’t blow the horn too loud. Tommy is rather a queer chap and doesn’t like to be told by new arrivals that they have come to finish the war. Of course it’s only the fool youngsters that do so. What Tommy wants is deeds, not words. Let the men prove worthy by their actions and he’ll find in Thomas a friend to tie to, who won’t let him down. The boys have a high standard to live up to. Personally, from my knowledge of the American, I know he can and will live up to it, but these few words of advice, from one who has had three years of it, may not come amiss. If we are to win the campaign, it behooves us to stick together, live clean. You know what I mean by that. And, above all, don’t talk too much, act. OLD Fritz is a hard man to beat and has fput up a dashing fight and he’s not beat yet. Please God, before next Spring we'll have him where we want him. ‘These peace cranks want discour- aging, when we have peace we want one on a solid and lasting basis and Fritz will not have the dic- tating of the terms. Best respects to the boys and tell them that, though perhaps unable to answer, would certainly enjoy a line from some of them. Incidentally, also a little Durham or some sweet chewing plug would come in handy.—Pvtr. Harry C. WINTERS, 48541, N. F. S., Command Depot, Alnwick, Northumberland, England. "HOSE of you on the front, land or sea, ought to know how much the rest of us are interested in your letters. Drop us a line. We know the censor limits you but there is plenty left to say and we surely want to hear from you, Write to the Camp- Fire and reach lots of friends at once, BY THE time this reaches you the third Liberty Loan will probably be calling you, Answer the call. Buy bonds. I say this to you not as blind, unreasoning patriots but as thinking men, and I practise what I preach, MICLOO© So(CO)