An army officer decided to see for himself how his sentries were doing their duty.  He was somewhat surprised at overhearing the following: 

“Halt!  Who goes there?”

“Friend—­with a bottle.”

“Pass, friend.  Halt, bottle.”

“A war is a fearful thing,” said Mr. Dolan.

“It is,” replied Mr. Rafferty.  “When you see the fierceness of members of the army toward one another, the fate of a common enemy must be horrible.”

See also Military Discipline.

ARMY RATIONS

The colonel of a volunteer regiment camping in Virginia came across a private on the outskirts of the camp, painfully munching on something.  His face was wry and his lips seemed to move only with the greatest effort.

“What are you eating?” demanded the colonel.

“Persimmons, sir.”

“Good Heavens!  Haven’t you got any more sense than to eat persimmons at this time of the year?  They’ll pucker the very stomach out of you.”

“I know, sir.  That’s why I’m eatin’ ’em.  I’m tryin’ to shrink me stomach to fit me rations.”

On the occasion of the annual encampment of a western militia, one of the soldiers, a clerk who lived well at home, was experiencing much difficulty in disposing of his rations.

A fellow-sufferer nearby was watching with no little amusement the first soldier’s attempts to Fletcherize a piece of meat.  “Any trouble, Tom?” asked the second soldier sarcastically.

“None in particular,” was the response.  Then, after a sullen survey of the bit of beef he held in his hand, the amateur fighter observed: 

“Bill, I now fully realize what people mean when they speak of the sinews of war.”—­Howard Morse.

ART

  There was an old sculptor named Phidias,
  Whose knowledge of Art was invidious. 
    He carved Aphrodite
    Without any nightie—­
  Which startled the purely fastidious.

  —­Gilbert K. Chesterton.

The friend had dropped in to see D’Auber, the great animal painter, put the finishing touches on his latest painting.  He was mystified, however, when D’Auber took some raw meat and rubbed it vigorously over the painted rabbit in the foreground.

“Why on earth did you do that?” he asked.

“Why you see,” explained D’Auber, “Mrs Millions is coming to see this picture today.  When she sees her pet poodle smell that rabbit, and get excited over it, she’ll buy it on the spot.”

A young artist once persuaded Whistler to come and view his latest effort.  The two stood before the canvas for some moments in silence.  Finally the young man asked timidly, “Don’t you think, sir, that this painting of mine is—­well—­er—­tolerable?”

Whistler’s eyes twinkled dangerously.

“What is your opinion of a tolerable egg?” he asked.