“These are War times,” I said, in a dignafied manner. “And if you are doing nothing for the country yourself you should at least allow others to do so.”
He was a not unreasonable tipe and this seemed to effect him. For he sat down on one of our stools and said:
“Well, I don’t know about that, miss. You see——”
“Captain,” I put in. Because he might as well know that we meant business.
“Captain, of course!” he said. “You’ll have to excuze me. This thing of Women in War is new to me. But now don’t you think that you’ll be doing the country a service not to interfere with the food supply and so on?” He then looked at me and remarked: “If I was you, miss or Captain, I would not come any to clost to my place. My wife was pretty well bruized up that time you upset our milk waggon.”
It was indeed he! But he was not unpleasant about it, although remarking that if he had a daughter and a machine, although he had niether, and expected niether, the one would never be allowed to have the other until carefully taught on an emty road.
He then said:
“You girls have been wig-wagging, I see.”
“We are studying flag signals.”