nights doing it.

Well, anyways, after two hours of lapping up this dope I got so's I could actually tell the cam shaft from the crank shaft and the difference between a cycle and a cylinder, which was enough for one day. And then I rode home to Ma.

Actually I had almost forgot to be miserable about Jim for two whole hours! But when I got home, and he hadn't phoned to apologize yet, it all came back over me, and I simply felt that, automobiles and enlistments or no, I wanted to die—just die! I cried so bad that even Ma couldn't make me mind, and I was so tired I couldn't even taste the hot cakes she had fixed. I do believe Ma would think of cooking something tasty if the world was coming to a end the next minute. She'd be afraid the recording angel would need a sandwich and a cup of hot coffee to keep him going while he was on the job.

But, anyways, they couldn't do nothing to me, or get me to go to the Ritz or the theater much less the midnight show; but the last did not matter, because I was wore out and asleep long before. And so Ma had to telephone that Miss La Tour was suddenly ill and unable to appear. I made her swear not to phone Jim nor let him in nor Roscoe, the publicity man, if they was to come—not on no account. And so I slept—poor child!—worn by the tossing of the cruel ocean of life—do you get me?

Well, next morning I was up long before Musette, and would of been obliged to dress unaided, only for Ma never having got used to sleeping late, partly on account of her always taking a nap just after the matinée performance when with the circus, and still continuing the habit. So Ma give me my coffee and a big kiss, and promised not to tell Jim nothing if he telephoned and I set off to be at the hospital at nine A. M., according to orders from Miss Lieutenant.

Well, there has always been something about a hospital I didn't care for much; not that I have went to many—only the night Jim got bit by the alligator; and once, when me and Jim was first engaged, he had a dog which we had to take to the dog hospital. But—believe you me—this St. Timothy's Hospital, was quite different from the dog hospital. It was a whole lot more like a swell hotel, with porters and bell boys and clerks and elevators, and everything except a café, as far as I could make out; and I'm not sure about that, but I don't suppose they had it.

I was so scared of being late that I was a little early and had to wait in a office. Pretty soon two or three other rookies come in; and, being ladies, of course we didn't dare to speak to each other at first. And then the ladies of the Automobile Service commenced coming in, wearing their uniforms. And were they a fine-looking lot? They were! I sure did wish I had a right to that costume; and I had a feeling that my heart wouldn't hurt near so bad, even when thinking of Jim, once it was beating under that snappy-looking uniform coat in Uncle Sam's service—do you get me?

Well, about this time we were let go upstairs in one of them regular hotel elevators, the rookies still scared, the regular members in good standing talking among theirselves, though several spoke to me nice and friendly; in particular, the little frowzy one which had been reading the book the day before in the office, but wasn't at all sloppy in her uniform.

Believe you me, I had a awful funny feeling in the middle of my stomach going up in that elevator, and not for the same reason as the Metropolitan Tower or any of them tall buildings, either. It was because of not knowing what was ahead of me and preparing for the worst. After I'd seen the kind of stuff them lady soldiers had to learn in the auto shop, it seemed like about anything might be expected of them in a mere hospital. So I got myself all braced up so's if I had to cut off a leg, or extract a tooth or anything, I'd be able to go to it and not bat an eye-lash—not outwardly, anyway.

But things is seldom as bad as you figure in advance—not even first-night performances. And the stuff which was actually put up to us was simple as a ordinary one-step. At least, it looked so from a distance. By distance I mean this: When the nursing instructor—a lady in a white dress, with the darndest-looking little soubrette cap stuck 'way on the back of her head—when she stood up in front of the lot of us and put a Velpeau bandage—which is French for sling, I guess, and looks it—on one of the lady soldiers who was acting as mannequin, why, it looked easy.

While she was putting it on she handed us a line of talk something like that bird at the auto school, only not so fluent. And when she got through it was up to the rest of us to put the Velpeau bandages on each other. Gawd knows it was no cinch.

First, I set down, and a girl in uniform asked could she wrap me up. Well, it just naturally rumpled my Georgette blouse; but what's a blouse to a patriot? I let her go to it, and she done it so good and so quick that it was all over before I knew it, as the dentist says; and then it was up to me. Somebody give me a nice new roll of bandage and told me to get a model.

Well, I didn't have the nerve to ask any one, me being so new and the name Marie La Tour not meaning anything to nobody here. And so here was me standing round like a fool, not knowing how to commence, when up comes that lady—her which had been so sloppy reading a book in the office.

"Can't I be your model?" she offered, and—believe you me—I could of almost cried, I was so glad to have somebody take notice of me.

I liked that dame more each time I seen her; she sure was refined. Even her sloppiness was refined—do you get me?

Well, as to real work, that sheaf of yellow papers up to the auto school had nothing on the bandaging game when it come to understanding it properly. Believe you me, that bandage had a will of its own, and the only way to make it mind would of been to step on it and kill it. But after a little I managed to tie up the lady pretty good, and before I was done I had my mind made up that Musette had lost her regular job and was going to be a bandage mannequin from that P. M. on until I got the hang of the thing.

Well, when the scramble of putting on the bandage was over and past, we was told that after we got on to the theory we'd be sent down to the Charity Ward for two solid weeks and practice what we'd learned.

Well, I thought, if I ever get there Gawd help the charity patients! I guess the two weeks won't qualify me for the Auto Service. More likely I'll be ready for the Battalion of Death, or whatever they call them Russian women!

Well, when the bandages was all gathered up we was dismissed, as they call it, and told to report for drill in a certain place in the park, it being a fine day.

I must say I didn't think a whole lot of the hospital end of the game, because it wasn't pleasant. Of course I had no intention to quit in any way, but it sort of depressed me, what with all that sickness going on round me and the talk about wounds and bandages. And so my mind wasn't took off Jim, like it was by the auto work, me having a heart which needed a little bandaging—only that can't be done, of course.

IV

Well, on the way home I cried some more. And well I might. For when I got there had Jim phoned? He had not! Nobody but Goldringer, the manager, and Roscoe, the publicity man, and a few unimportant nuts like that, and some of the newspapers. Ma had stalled them off pretty good by saying it was impossible to disturb me.

And it seems these people hadn't been able to locate Jim anywheres,