The railings of a big transport on its way to France were lined with very new soldiers when a massive gob hurried by, bent upon some urgent duty.
"Gangway! Gangway!" he shouted as he passed along the deck.
"Gee, that guy'll catch hell when they find him," murmured one of the recruits. "They been hollerin' for him all mornin.'"
"Hollerin' for who?"
"Why, that guy Gangway."
FRIEND—"How's your boy getting on in the army, Mr. Johnson?"
JOHNSON—"Wonderful! I feel a sense of great security. An army that can make my boy get up early, work hard all day, and go to bed early can do anything!"
He was a very young officer, who looked as if he should be wearing knee breeches.