War has been continuing these last few minutes. In the most ridiculous way David, after his shower bath, messed round with a shaving brush and a piece of soap, trying to get a lather on his face. Randall saw it first, and with roars of laughter called our attention to him. Corder, who instantly understood, quietly twinkled; but Knudsen wrinkled his brow at the boy. “Have you never done that before?” he demanded. Said innocent David, “I forgot to get my man to show me.” “Your man?” asked Knudsen. “His valet!” screamed Randall, overcome with the humor of the situation. Knudsen, never having been acquainted with the Harvard Gold Coast, showed in his keenly intelligent face first amazement, then disgust, then to my pleasure a kind of pity. In a moment he had both brush and soap in his hands, and soon plentifully lathered David. The boy then took his razor, one of the old style, and immediately gashed himself.
With indulgent impatience Knudsen took the razor, sat the boy down, and muttering to himself that he’d never tried this job before, skilfully shaved one half of David’s face, at each moment explaining the use of the weapon. “Why didn’t you get a safety razor?” he demanded. The lad answered, “My cousin Walter uses this kind.” I remember that he used to idolize Walt, as all the younger fellows did; if he still has some of the feeling there’s hope for him. Knudsen made him shave the other half of his face himself—a botched job, but still David finished it. Randall remarked that safety razors were best for girls, and when David finally emerged fresh, pink, and handsome in spite of his wounds, Randall said, “Now you’re yourself again, Miss Lucy.”
The boy’s face is very sensitive; I saw that he was more hurt than angry, and he flushed deeply with the pain of it. It was Knudsen who was angry, but he said nothing. Corder still watched quizzically. I know that the title will stick. It is not ten minutes since the word was uttered, and we are already taking it up as David’s name. Randall uses it flagrantly, the rest of us as a matter of course, all except Knudsen. “Come on, Lucy,” he said just now when the first call for assembly sounded, and with his hand on David’s shoulder he went with him into the street, protectively, I think.
I shall close this and send it off. Again love from
Dick.
Private Richard Godwin to His Mother
Saturday, Sep. 9, 1916.
At the Y. M. C. A. Nearing 9 P. M.