“Heavens! It makes my head dizzy to even think of it!” said Pinky.
“And you lived to tell the tale!” said the big St. Bernard.
“Yes, as I shall live to tell the tale of this war and about all of you to my grandchildren when I get home,” replied Billy.
“But you must have had a great many narrow escapes and thrilling experiences,” suggested the hound.
“I should think so! More than would fill a book the size of Webster’s dictionary. As for hurts, bruises and scars, I have been wounded so many times I don’t believe there is a square inch on my body that has not a scar of some kind on it. It is a good thing I am not a hairless goat, like those little hairless dogs they have in Mexico, for if I was, I would look like a tattooed man,” said Billy.
“Tell us of your most thrilling experience,” begged the Red Cross dog.
“Heavens! I have had so many hairbreadth escapes I would not know which one to pick out.”
“Tell us two or three of them,” said Pinky. “I just love to hear you tell of your adventures.”
“Yes, do!” exclaimed all the other dogs in chorus.
Just then Billy gave his head a shake and a big clod of dry mud fell off his eye, leaving it practically well and the swelling gone.