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Show Not Like Home. The bright hoy in khaki was dilating on the woes of army life. "Yes;' he said to Ids old mother, "we don't get much in the way of fancy foods, or anything like that. Our camp cook's all right on stews and soup, but lie can't go beyond them. The oilier day you know, when I went back, I took a cucumber with me that I was going to share with one or two of the boys. I gave it to the cook and asked him to gel it ready for us, and what d'you think he did with it? Put it in the oven and linked it." "Ob. pooi' boy!" said the fond mother. moth-er. "A pity I couldn't have been there to look after you. I'd have boiled It lovely for you !" |