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" She turned prettily then toward General Edgeways and laughed: "You've been telling us about how to secure peace, but come on, now, General—just among us Rotarians and Rotary Anns—'fess up! " The General was short and globular, and his red face was smooth as a baby's bottom and adorned with white-gold-framed spectacles.

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The Annual Ladies' Dinner was a most respectable gathering—the flower of Fort Beulah.

On the wall was a banner lettered "Service Before Self," and the menu—the celery, cream of tomato soup, broiled haddock, chicken croquettes, peas, and tutti-frutti ice-cream—was up to the highest standards of the Hotel Wessex. General Edgeways was completing his manly yet mystical rhapsody on nationalism: "...

for these U-nited States, a-lone among the great powers, have no desire for foreign conquest.

Seething with the notion, she got herself clear into the office of the Quartermaster General, but that stuffy machine-minded official refused her (or, really, refused the poor lads, so lonely there in the mud), muttering in a cowardly way some foolishness about lack of transport for canaries.

It is said that her eyes flashed real fire, and that she faced the Jack-in-office like Joan of Arc with eyeglasses while she "gave him a piece of her mind that he never forgot! They were encouraged to send their menfolks, or anybody else's menfolks, off to war. Gimmitch addressed every soldier she met—and she saw to it that she met any of them who ventured within two blocks of her—as "My own dear boy." It is fabled that she thus saluted a colonel of marines who had come up from the ranks and who answered, "We own dear boys are certainly getting a lot of mothers these days.

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