One mahogany dining room table.
Six mahogany dining chairs.
One mahogany sideboard.
One bottle Scotch whiskey, full.
Seemingly, then, ensued a period when the appraiser was otherwise engaged and made no entries whatsoever. Then, in a somewhat struggling and uncertain handwriting, he scratched out the last item and concluded his labors for the day with the following notations:
One bottle Scotch whiskey, partially full.
One revolving Turkish rug.
§ 69 A Service to the Whole Land
In the early summer of 1918 three of us made a long trip by automobile to pay a visit to a colored regiment at the front in France. The results more than repaid us for the time and trouble. One of the main compensations was First Class Private Cooksey, who, because he had been an elevator attendant in a Harlem apartment house, gave his occupation in his enlistment blank as “indoor chauffeur.” It was to First Class Private Cooksey that the Colonel of the regiment, seeing the expression on the others’ faces when a shell from a German mortar fell near by on the day the command moved up to the front, put this question:
“Cooksey, if one of those things drops right here alongside of us and goes off, are you going to stay by me?”