gcls_campsevier_053

MUTT & JEFF COMING

Call the cops. Mutt & Jeff are back again. Bud Fisher's famous cartoon cut-ups in New Musical Comedy medium.
Mutt & Jeff's Divorce described as the gladdest glee of all the guffaw vehicles of the roaring romps.
The fastest of all furious folly frolics and the cheeriest of all cartoon comedies, is the way the press and public elsewhere are describing Bud Fisher's newest nonsense farrago reintroducing his world famed rollies Mutt & Jeff in a tailor made musical comedy called Mutt & Jeff Divorced. The production, which is listed for presentation here at the Colonial on Monday, March 8th with regular matinee, is said to excel in its scenic embellishments, costume investiture and chorus comeliness, all prior blue ribbon presentations which have made visits of the duo remarkable. Just how much scandal occurs to pry the twain in two, just which of the pair is the cor-respondent, if either, or what the general direction of the story is or may be is not conveyed in the preliminary bulletins announcing the forthcoming local engagement.

THE KNOCKER

There are many names that are odious to the American and among them the Knocker. Here is another kind of knocker that is very essential to the canning of the Kaiser. Instead of going out and knocking he comes in does all of his knocking and goes out. Without this knocket our horses and mules would not have their shoes on. The Training School will be a very valuable asset in this war and will contribute a great deal to the success of many men after they have gone back home.
When we get our new stock we are ready to shoe and thing from Baelim Ass to the Comical "Maud." He may be a kicker but our knocker will shoe him. We don't play when it comes to shoeing the bad'uns. We yank up his running gear turn the crank one foot shoots out turn another crank and another foot shoots out and so on. You know me Al.
Another want was registered this morning when one of the new students asked for a left-handed Anvil.
Lt. King is very conspicious by his absence, but he is enjoying a few days at home with wife and baby.
Little Willie is over in the Magnolia State seeing his better nine-tenths.
Leonard Lewis is at home to see his father who is very ill with pneumonia and is not expected to live.
The following men areon the Honor Roll for this week: Class "A" --- C. A. Bray, W.W. Reese, J. C. Abernathy, J. W. Starnes. Class "B" ---E. J. Martin, John Owenby, Titus Hillis, W. Fleming. Class "C"---W. Williams, J. W. Thompson, R. J. eeks, . R. Irby.
The personnel of the shop is made up of the following Instructors Pig Iron, Old Pa, Little Willie, Hound, Old Folks, and Red Irvin and Bond. What these men don't know about shoeing would fill a book.
Credit must be given to our cleaning force. Our grounds look well from every standpoint and but for the taste and artistic turn of Sgt. Bond we might look like the old country blacksmith shop.
WANTED:---To dispose of a mascot, Old Pa., cure for Spring Blues, Old Folks, Patience to wait for Furlough Our Official Lady.

While glancing through the Trench and Camp News
We view our country's patriotism with all its hughs
Things that make us soldier boys inspire
And the necessity of each of us to climb a little higher
For we are in the battle now, the thickest of the fray
That's why we should work harder and stand together every day
We are fighting for Old Glory and we all love Uncle Sam
That's why we step out and say "here, I'm the man"
Though it be to polish the Company street or on the wood detail
And all other duties around the camp, with our best we do avail
Each duty now performed by us
Brings the Kaiser nearer the dust
Although we are new but men of brains
We will not submit to our countries stains
We have the blood that is real blue
And the patriotism of our forefathers renew
And with the best of pure steel
We will make the blamed old Kaiser reel
We will show him how with the U.S. to compete
And teach him how the red, white, and blue to treat
We conclude that he thinks he's great
But sometime soon other stories he'll relate
We have not forgotten that beneath the seas
Some of out fellow men there he leaves
And tries his best to degrade our band
And destroy the honour of our country land
Then he, who is he who will not dare
Among the true blood Americans anywhere
Who will not fight with a vim
For the victory we are bound to win
I am a 12 detachment lad
And intend to put forth the best I ever had
And can safely say for our bunch
That we are not slackers, _no not much
We are here to win and win we will
Until death we will down old Kaiser Bill.

"KAISER BILL."
"Lookout," "Old Top:"
We're here to stay.
Boys in France.

Old "Kaiser Bill" is trying still
To lick the other nations;
WIth all his might he holds on tight,
Until he's short of rations.

He's treat as toys, the U. S. boys,
And quickly take their bunting;
But with a dash, the Huns they smash,
Which puts old Bill to grunting.

He had "allowed" that such a crowe
Who fight on rhyme and reason:
Would surely bend before his men,
And crowd his glthy prisons.

But this old Dolr received a jolt,
It has not made him happy;
And No. 2 is shortly due,
As sure as "Heck's a puppy."
Tho' we are late, "as sure as fate,"
It's goodbye "Bill" and Prussia
WIth every son, he'd better run,
Or be kicked into Russia.
W. LeGETTE, D. D. S.

I sometime think I'll quit this life
And settle down and get a wife.
Sometime I think I would love
To have some place I could call
home.
And settle down no more to roam.
But that very thing I've tried,
And found myself dissatisfied.
I have often tried to settle down
To office work, and live in town.
And act like civilized folks do,
Take in shows and dances too.
But I'd no more than get a start,
'Till "war lust" would grip my heart.
And in my "Night-dreams I would
see,
The great battlefields calling me.
And at the chance I'd never fail,
To drop it all and hit the trail.
Somtimes we go to town to seek a
little fun,
Somtimes well, we raise a little
H----.
We try to crowd into one night
The joys of many months 'Taint
right.
Well when we hit the "Great White
Way,"
Our joyful spirits get full away.
Well may-be not, 'tis not for me,
To shape our final desiney.
But when our last fight is done,
And reported to the Great Unknown
Amd to the captain our record
bought,
Of hard fighting mid dangers frought
And of hardships cheerfully endured,
That best results might be secured.
Against this our little sprees,
Will seem as ponds compared to seas.
And the Angels surely will decide,
There's a balance on the credit side.
And God I think will drop a tear
And bless those who went without
fear.

C. A. DAVIS
Battery F 113th F. A.

One Hundred Years From Now
(Two Viewpoints)
The cynic cries:---
"Pray, tell me, soldier, what gain you
now,
In leaving home and kin and quest
for gold
To fight this Old World's battles o'er
the sea?
America's the NEW---why not forget
the OLD?

"Because a half-crazed student killed
a prince
And fanned to flame the deep and
smold'ring hate
Of petty monarchs, why rise you up
to fight?
They made this war---now leave
them to their fate!

"A despot with a tott'ring brain as
warped
And withered as the arm of him
cries, 'Blood!'
And, puppet-like, you leap to rear
him dowm.
Why smirch yourself within the
crimson flood?

"A hundred years from now, lad,
who will care
That you tossed your life into
the fray?
What will it matter that you sprang
to arms
And offered thus to give your life
away?"

The soldier speaks:---
"Think you that I build just for to-
day.
O sneering mocker, coward, ranting
fool?
Are you so blind you cannot see be-
yond the span
Of one short life, one insane mon-
arch's rule?

"I fight as do my million brothers
fight,
That death today may bring about a
lasting peace;
That suffering now alleviate tomor-
row's pain;
That was today may mean that wars
shall cease.

"Beacause we are the NEW can we
forget the OLD
That gave us birth? Are we too
young to understand
The rights of man, the rights for
which we fought
And died when we were few uon
this land?

"A hundred year from now my
name and face
Will be forgotten and my grave un-
known:
But o'er this land wherein we dwell
They'll reap the years of peace our
blood has sown."
FRANK R. DARROW.
Corporal, Battery E. 143d Field Ar-
tillery, Camp Kearny.