A SHORT WAY WITH TINO.
THE BIG GUN (ringing up the Entente Exchange). "OH, YOU ARE THERE, ARE YOU? WELL, PUT ME ON TO NUMBER ONE, ATHENS."
A KNIGHT-ERRANT.
Sister Baynes came into my room just as I was putting on my out-door uniform and wanted to know how I was spending my two hours off duty. She is full of curiosity about—she calls it interest in—other people's affairs. When I told her I was going out to buy a birthday present she looked rather stern. Said she:—
"The giving of unnecessary presents has become a luxury which few of us nowadays think it right to afford."
I didn't answer her because at the moment I could think of no really adequate reason why Bobbie should have a present, except that I so very much wanted to give him one. Bobbie is tall and young and red-haired and, of course, khaki clad. We are going to be married "when the War is over."
I pondered Sister Baynes' words until I reached Oxford Street, and then forgot them in the interest of choosing the present. For a while I hesitated between cigarettes and chocolates, and finally decided on the latter. Bobbie is a perfect pig about sweets. I bought a comfortable-looking box, ornamented with a St. George, improbably attired in khaki, slaying a delightful German dragon clad in blue and a Uhlan helmet. St. George had red hair and a distinct look of Bobbie, which was one reason why I got him.
This business accomplished, I thought I would call on a friend who lives near by. She is middle-aged and rather sad, and spends her time pushing trolleys about a munition works. Just now, however, I knew she had a cold and couldn't go out. I found her on the floor wrestling with brown paper, preparing a parcel for her soldier on Salisbury Plain. She adopted him through a League, and spends all her spare time and pocket-money in socks and cigarettes for him. She smiled at me wanly, with a piece of string between her teeth, and I felt I simply must do something to cheer her up.