"I thought his name was Charles," he remarked, as he referred to the
papers.
"Certainly. But we call him 'Macaroni' sometimes because he looks like
it--especially his legs," Joe explained.
"His legs macaroni?" questioned the English officer, regarding the three
chums over the tops of his glasses. "Do you mean--er--that his legs are
so easily broken--as macaroni is broken?"
"No, not that. It's because they're so thin," Joe added.
Still the officer did not seem to comprehend.
"It's a joke," added Blake.
Then the Englishman's face lit up.
"Oh, a joke!" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you say so at first? Now I
comprehend. A joke! Oh, that's different! His legs are like macaroni, so
you call him spaghetti! I see! Very good! Very good!" and he laughed in
a ponderous way.
"At the same time," he went on, "I think I shall make a note of it. I
will just jot it down on the margin of his papers, that he is called
'Macaroni' as a joke. Some other officer might not see the point," he
added. "I'm quite fond of a joke myself! This is a very good one. I
shall make a note of it." And this he proceeded to do in due form.
"Well, if that isn't the limit!" murmured Joe, when the officer, having
returned their papers to them, sent them to another department to get
the necessary passes by which they could claim their baggage and make
application to go to the front.
Pages:
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110