TALKS WITH A KID BROTHER
"You fellows have got to stop your dd swearing; Frank is saying his prayers."
So he was. It was bedtime for men in training, and he had undressed. The hint was followed.
Frank never neglected to read the Bible either. On a similar occasion when a couple of the fellows were playing horse—they are always behaving like infants on these trips—one of them let fly a sofa-cushion which accidentally landed in Frank's lap. He clapped the cushion under his arm before any one else could grab it, then muttered earnestly, "Wait till I finish this chapter and I'll hammer your face with it." And he did.
You understand, of course, that I'm not preaching at you. I'm only telling you kid stories, for you are still a good deal of a kid, though a pseudo-college man. You can draw morals from them or not as best meets your requirements. You know your requirements better than I do. You aren't so bad—in fact, you have behaved yourself pretty
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