We have now had luncheon and the Quartermaster, Jane, is burning the papers and so on.
After I have finished this Log we will take up the signaling. We have decided in this way: Lining up in a row, and counting one to ten, and even numbers will study flag signals, and the odds will take up telagraphy, which is very clearly shown in the Manual.
After that we will have exercises to make us strong and elastic, and then target practise.
We have as yet no guns, but father has one he uses for duck shooting in the fall, and Betty’s uncle was in Africa last year and has three, which she thinks she can secure without being noticed. We have passed this Resolution: To have nothing to do with those of the other Sex who are not prepared to do their Duty.
Evening, April 12th. I returned to my domacile in time to take in Old Glory, and also to dress for dinner, being muddy and needing a bath, as we had tried bathing in the creek at the camp while Mademoiselle was asleep in the tent, but found that there was an oil well near and the water was full of oil, which stuck to us and was very disagreeable to smell.
Carter Brooks came to dinner, and I played the National Anthem on the phonograph as we went in to the Dining Room. Mother did not like it, as the soup was getting cold, but we all stood until it was finished. I then saluted, and we sat down.
Carter Brooks sat beside me, and he gave me a long and piercing glance.
“What’s the matter with you, Bab?” he said. “You were rather rude to me last night and now you’ve been looking through me and not at me ever since I came, and I’ll bet you’re feverish.”
“Not at all,” I said, in a cold tone. “I may be excited, because of war and my Country’s Peril. But for goodness sake don’t act like the Familey, which always considers that I am sick when I am merely intence.”
“Intence about what?” he asked.