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HOOTON'S TOOTIN'

If you say the words out loud--"regiments of schizophrenics, paranoiacs, and manic-depressives"--they sound almost musical. If you write them out, you get nowhere. And if you actually get them in print, you are liable to be sought by the Associated Press for a feature story --which is what happened to our Professor Hooton.

If we were writing on "the war to end war," (which we once did in the 12th grade) we'd get a favorite little plan of ours off our chest. Statesmen and diplomats and "the folks who are in the know" would have to put on boxing gloves and fight it out in the front line. If they got a bit hurt --well, that's really the most important part of our plan. Only the men over 45 (and the women who admitted it) and our special regiment made up of "trash" would be allowed anywhere near the battlefield. The rest of the army, which would be mostly college boys, could just sit in the background and think about next weekend.

The only reason that we haven't released our plan to the press is that Mr. Hooton got there first. If we could only find that schoolboy essay of ours, we'd almost be willing to claim plagiarism. But the public has the story now, and it's just as well it came from Mr. Hooton. We were always a bit shy about talking to reporters, and by the time we got to those grown-up ideas and long words, we'd have to call on the Professor anyway.

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