don't have to say good-by to them."

"Ever gone with a coosie?"

"Not exactly," admitted the tall youth, blushing all over his pink
face, so that it was noticeable even under the ashen glare of
the arc lights on the avenue that led towards camp.

"I have," said Fuselli, with a certain pride. "I used to go with
a Portugee girl. My but she was a toughie. I've given all that
up now I'm engaged, though.... But I was tellin' ye.... Well, we
finally made up an' I kissed her an' Mabe said she'd never marry
any one but me. So when we was walkin" up the street I spied a
silk service flag in a winder, that was all fancy with a star all
trimmed up to beat the band, an' I said to myself, I'm goin' to
give that to Mabe, an' I ran in an' bought it. I didn't give a
hoot in hell what it cost. So when we was all kissin' and
bawlin' when I was goin' to leave them to report to the overseas
detachment, I shoved it into her hand, an' said, 'Keep that,
girl, an' don't you forgit me.' An' what did she do but pull out
a five-pound box o' candy from behind her back an' say, 'Don't
make yerself sick, Dan.' An' she'd had it all the time without
my knowin' it. Ain't girls clever?"

"Yare," said the tall youth vaguely.



Along the rows of cots, when Fuselli got back to the barracks,
men were talking excitedly.