the very way she looked that she would have much rather been talking to me.  Last week I had to convince mother that I was wearing my flannels; this week I had to convince her I still had them on.  The only way to satisfy her, I suppose, is to appear before her publicly in them.  Poor, dear mother, she told me she had written the doctor up here asking him not to squirt my arm full of those horrid little germs any more.  She said I came from a good, clean family, and had been bathed once a week all my life, except the time when I had the measles and then it wasn’t advisable.  I am sure this must have cheered the doctor up tremendously.  She also asked him to be sure to see that I got my meals regularly.  I can see him now taking me by the hand and leading me to the mess-hall.  When I suggested to mother that she write President Wilson asking him to be sure to see that my blankets didn’t fall off at night, she said that I was a sarcastic, ungrateful boy.

March 18th. There is something decidedly wrong with me as a sailor.  I got my pictures to-day.  Try as I may, I am unable to locate the trouble.  There seems to be some item left out.  Not enough salt in the mixture, perhaps.  I don’t know exactly what it is but I seem to be a little too, may I say, handsome or, perhaps, polished would be the better word.  I’m afraid to send the pictures away because no one will believe them.  They will think I borrowed the clothes.

March 19th. A funny thing happened last Sunday that I forgot to record.  A girl had her foot on the fence and when she took it down every one yelled, “As you were.”  Sailors have such a delicate sense of humor.  Well, that’s about enough for to-day.

March 20th. We had a lecture on boats to-day.  The only thing I don’t know now is how to tell a bilge from a painter.  The oar was easy.  It is divided into three parts, the stem, the lead and the muzzle.  I must remember this, it is very important.  The men are getting so used to inoculations around here that they complain when they don’t get enough.  We’re shaping up into a fine body of men, our company commander told us this morning, and added, that if we continue to pick up cigarette butts several more weeks we’ll be able to stack arms without dropping our guns.  Eli, the goat, seems unwell to-day.  I attribute his unfortunate condition to his constant and unrelenting efforts to keep the canteen clear of paper.  It is my belief that goats are not healthy because of the fact that they eat paper, but in spite of it, and I feel sure that if all goats got together and decided to cut out paper for a while and live on a regular diet, they would be a much more robust race.  The movies were great to-night.  I saw Sidney Drew’s left ear and a mole on the neck of the man in front of me.