"In such language Ed Collier discoursed to me, pathetic. I gathered
the diagnosis that his affections and his digestions had been
implicated in a scramble and the commissary had won out. I never
disliked Ed Collier. I searched my internal admonitions of suitable
etiquette to see if I could find a remark of a consoling nature, but
there was none convenient.

"'I'd be glad, now,' says Ed, 'if you'll let me go. I've been hard
hit, but I'll hit the ration supply harder. I'm going to clean out
every restaurant in town. I'm going to wade waist deep in sirloins
and swim in ham and eggs. It's an awful thing, Jeff Peters, for
a man to come to this pass--to give up his girl for something to
eat--it's worse than that man Esau, that swapped his copyright for a
partridge--but then, hunger's a fierce thing. You'll excuse me, now,
Jeff, for I smell a pervasion of ham frying in the distance, and my
legs are crying out to stampede in that direction.'

"'A hearty meal to you, Ed Collier,' I says to him, 'and no hard
feelings. For myself, I am projected to be an unseldom eater, and I
have condolence for your predicaments.'

"There was a sudden big whiff of frying ham smell on the breeze; and
the Champion Faster gives a snort and gallops off in the dark toward
fodder.

"I wish some of the cultured outfit that are always advertising the
extenuating circumstances of love and romance had been there to see.
There was Ed Collier, a fine man full of contrivances and flirtations,
abandoning the girl of his heart and ripping out into the contiguous
territory in the pursuit of sordid grub. 'Twas a rebuke to the poets