The first six per cent of the last four glorious months has passed with most of the comrades spread far and wide. The boys now seem to be divided into two classes: those who have unlimited time for extracurricular work in Boston and those who can't leave home at night, i.e., the brave married men.

It's a frequent sight nowadays to see the oldtimer, "Pappy" Dye, giving pertinent bits of advice to the fledglings in the happy state.

Incidentally, some of the boys seemed to have fared differently from others Bob Foley shows up with a satisfied "hamang-eggs look on his face every morning while Reg-Com Grinaker still trudges wearily into Coeiw for a bleak, lonely breakfast every day. ("No dishes at home," says he, and the boys nod their heads knowingly.)

Some few men escaped the married state but not by much. In fact, Ernie Hyne (our late platoon leader) has reconsidered and in a few weeks there will be another person waiting at the end of the pay line. (As a service to all newly arrived brides we announce that the next payday will be Monday 16 July.)

And E. "Gunner" Hanneken is still puzzling over the implications of a maritally suggestive cartoon sent him by a young Kaintucky miss.

And of course on always has to keep an eye on the perennial threats, Bienvenu and Hayes, while they are at large in the town.

Jack Falsey and Jim Christy are now parading around together under the banner of the Lobster Twins; but Jim hides his color a little better then "Blushing Jack."

As yet there have been no casualties in the Government Administration class, but any day now someone is likely to be trapped and trampled in the aisle as Mr. Welcker gets off to a running start. Everyone is still anxiously waiting for him to do a hand spring over the rail. Neal Gow denies that his well known track pictures have anything to do with Mr. Welcker's entrances.