"White, face!" should the drill sergeant, exasperated because Pvt, Huey, H.F., was dreaming of other matters in the rear rank.
"Quiet, dope," replied out here with Oriental calm. "I'm Maupin 'cause I can't take my girl to Soldiers Field for the game this afternoon."
"It wouldn't MacKinney difference, you olive drab dope," gloated the sarge. "That Army team would just a-Mazur with the score it'll run up. It'd Kelleher and she'd go out with a Cadet instead of you, you human canary, and with a Cadet there are no Olds barred. Why, half your team's injured. Forte won't play, I hear."
"O'Donnell be in there, don't worry. Injuries don't bother us; when we get scratches we just put Heiden on them. And never fear; there'll be no weeping along the Jarrells tonight. Jawn'll stuff the Army down a Hatch so it'll never Seip out. I make it Harvard, 7 to 6."
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Leverett Society Stages Operetta
