MEN AND MATTERS

Matamata Record, Volume II, Issue 66, 24 January 1918, Page 3

MEN AND MATTERS

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Stories of soldiers are quite the rage now. Some are chestnuts served with a fresh sauce on a different dish. Some are the truth; many are not. It does not do to enquire too closely. After all if there is humor and wit why worry about the veracity, or pause to waste grey matter over the probability. It won’t improve the story one whit. There was a stoiy going the rounds. Many people believed in the truth of it. Then some body, who was supposed to know something about it come along and said it was a canard. It may have been, but what matter. It had to do with an interview between the King and a Canadian (?) officer with a very “down East ” accent. After inquiring about the Canadians’ losses, His Majesty expressed the hope that the Canadians would avenge themselves “ Wal, I reckon there’ll be more Prussians in hell this time next year than it’ll hold, sir ” was the reply. If it was not true it’s a pity; it is a sentiment many people hold.

All Canadians receive one-sixty-fourth of a gallon of rum every day. An argument ensued between the padre of a Highland battalion and a transport officer concerning this. “ Why, it’s the greatest thing ever!” declared the youngster. “ When the boys get that scoot of rum under their belts they just up with their kilts and go down the road looking for Fritz,” “ Hoot, mon ! ” remonstrated the padre, “ Dutch courage ! ” “Uh-uh, padre! Good old Scotch.”

A Canadian recently was stopped in a London street by a colonel for having failed to salute. The colonel was a staff officer and a martinet—a proud beauty in crimson bands and gold. “ Don’t you know what to do when you see an officer ? ” he stormed, and for a full five minutes he harangued the rookie on discipline. The Canadian listened sheepishly.

“ Stand at attention ! ” ordered the colonel, in intense exasperation, “ and take that grin off your face! You’re a soldier now, remember —so try to act like one f” “ Yes, sir.” “ What’s the matter with you, anyway? Do you drink?” The recruit looked relieved, and immediately relaxed. “ Well, I don’t mind splitting a bottle with you, colonel,” he said affably.

Jerry Donovan, who was a private in the United States marine corps, was a great fighter. He could fight two ways. One was against military foes, the other was against the Demon Rntn. In

; the course of time he was assigned to look after the office and to do the errands'of the commandant of the ' Brooklyn navy yard—the commandant being a man whose memory recalled the fact that Jerry never overlooked an opportunity, when on leave, to map out ah elaborate campaign against the demon. One morning Jerry appeared in'the commandant’s office, and said: “ Colonel, I want to speak to you to-day in an unusual manner. That is, I want to address you, not as a private to his commanding officer,shut as man to man.” “ Proceed,” said the colonel. ‘‘ I have just had a letter from / my wife over in Jersey "City,” explained Jerry, edging around the desk to get closer to the colonel. “ She is very anxious for me to come home for three days. She says the roof of our house—a poor, little house it is, sir—needs fixing; the windowpanes have been broken and must be replaced ; two or three of the washtubs have sprung leaks; and there are lots of little jobs that a man has to do around the house. You know how that is, sir. Colonel, will you be so kind as to give me three days’ leave ? ” “ Is that what your wife’s letter to you said?” asked the commandant. “ By the holy saints, it is—God help me !” replied Jerry. “Well,” the colonel continued, “I, too received a letter from your wife this morning. She asked me on no account to give you leave because she knew you would get drunk and go home and beat her up.” Jerry looked around to see that there was no one else in the room. Then, with an air of extreme regret, he stepped very close to the colonel. “ I understand,” said the Irishman, grasping the colonel’s hand fervently, “ we’re4alking as man to man, and not as a private to his commanding officer ? ” “ That’s true,” said the colonel. ‘‘Then,” commented Jerry seriously, “ I want to say that you and I are two of the most beautiful liars in the world. I’m not ■married.”