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U.S.A_ - John Dos Passos [382]

By Root 8598 0
nerves warmfeeling under the skin

charged the coiled brain with hurt sweet warm cold

mine must dont sayings print headlines:

Thou shalt not the multiplication table long di-vision, Now is the time for al good men knocks but once at a young man's door, It's a great life if Ish gebibbel, The first five years'l be the Safety First, Suppose a hun tried to rape your my country right or wrong, Catch 'em young, What he dont know wont

treat 'em rough, Tel 'em nothin, He got what was

coming to him he got his, This is a white man's coun-try, Kick the bucket, Gone west, If you dont like it you can croaked him

Say buddy cant you tell me how I can get back to my outfit?

Cant help jumpin when them things go off, give

me the trots them things do. I lost my identification tag swimmin in the Marne, roughhousin with a guy while

we was waitin to be deloused, in bed with a girl named Jeanne (Love moving picture wet French postcard

dream began with saltpeter in the coffee and ended at the propho station); -- Say soldier for chrissake cant you tell me how I can get back to my outfit?

-471-John Doe's

heart pumped blood:

alive thudding silence of blood in your ears

down in the clearing in the. Oregon forest where the punkins were punkincolor pouring into the blood

through the eyes and the fal colored trees and the

bronze hoopers were hopping through the dry grass,

where tiny striped snails hung on the underside of the blades and the flies hummed, wasps droned, bumblebees buzzed, and the woods smelt of wine and mushrooms and apples, homey smel of fal pouring into the blood, and I dropped the tin hat and the sweaty pack and

lay flat with the dogday sun licking my throat and

adamsapple and the tight skin over the breastbone.

The shel had his number on it.

The blood ran into the ground.

The service record dropped out of the filing cab-inet when the quartermaster sergeant got blotto that time they had to pack up and leave the bil ets in a hurry. The identification tag was in the bottom of the

Marne.

The blood ran into the ground, the brains oozed

out of the cracked skul and were licked up by the

trenchrats, the bel y swel ed and raised a generation of bluebottle flies, and the incorruptible skeleton,

and the scraps of dried viscera and skin bundled

in khaki

they took to Chalons-sur-Marne

and laid it out neat in a pine coffin

-472-and took it home to God's Country on a battleship and buried it in a sarcophagus in the Memorial

Amphitheatre in the Arlington National Cemetery

and draped the Old Glory over it

And the bugler played taps

and Mr. Harding prayed to God and the diplo-mats and the generals and the admirals and the brass-hats and the politicians and the handsomely dressed ladies out of the society column of the Washington

Post stood up solemn

and thought how beautiful sad Old Glory God's

Country it was to have the bugler play taps and the three vol eys made their ears ring. Where his chest ought to have been they pinned

the Congressional Medal, the D.S.C., the Me-dail e Militaire, the Belgian Croix de Guerre, the Ital-ian gold medal, the Vitutea Militara sent by Queen Marie of Rumania, the Czechoslovak war cross, the

Virtuti Militari of the Poles, a wreath sent by Hamilton Fish, Jr., of New York, and a little wampum presented by a deputation of Arizona redskins in warpaint and feathers. Al the Washingtonians brought flowers.

Woodrow Wilson brought a bouquet of poppies.

-473-THE BIG MONEY

CONTENTS

CHARLEY ANDERSON

3

NEWSREEL XLIV Yankee Doodle that melodee

10

CHARLEY ANDERSON

11

NEWSREEL XLV 'Twarn't for powder and for

storebought hair

18

THE AMERICAN PLAN

19

NEWSREEL XLVI these are the men for whom

the rabid

25

NEWSREEL XLVII boy seeking future offered

28

The Camera Eye (44) the unnamed arrival

29

CHARLEY ANDERSON

32

NEWSREEL XLVIII truly the Steel Corporation

46

TIN LIZZIE

47

NEWSREEL XLIX Jack o' Diamonds Jack o' Dia-

monds

57

CHARLEY ANDERSON

58

NEWSREEL L Don't blame it all on Broadway

91

THE BITTER DRINK

93

NEWSREEL LI The sunshine drifted from our

alley

105

MARY

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