lots of barbed wire and cut it up into little bits just to relieve my feelings.

Last night I had the fright of my life. Someone was fooling around the fence in the darkness.
"Who's there?" I cried.
"Why, I'm Kaiser William," came the answer in a subdued voice.
"Well, I wish you'd go away, Kaiser William," said I nervously, "you're busting the lights out of rule number six."
"What's that?" asks the voice.
"Not to commit a nuisance with anyone except in a military manner," I replied, becoming slightly involved.
"That's not such a wonderful rule," came back the voice in complaining tones. "I could make up a rule better than that."
"Don't try to tonight," I pleaded.

There was silence for a moment, then the voice continued seriously,
"Say, I'm not Kaiser William really. Honest I'm not."
"Well, who are you?" I asked impatiently.
"Why, I'm Tucks," the voice replied. "Folks call me that because I take so many of them in my trousers."
"Well, Tucks," I replied, "you'd better be moving on. I don't know what might happen with this gun. I'm tempted to shoot the cartridge out of it just to make it lighter."
"Oh, you can't shoot me," cried Tucks, "I'm crazy. I bet you didn't know that, did you?"
"I wasn't sure," I answered.
"Oh, I'm awfully crazy," continued Tucks, "everybody says so, and I look it, too, in the daylight."
"You must," I replied.
"Well, good night," said Tucks in the same subdued voice. "If you find a flock of pink Liberty Bonds around here, remember I lost them." He departed in the direction of City Island.

_May 1st._ I visited the office of the camp paper today and found it to be an extremely hectic place. In the course of a conversation with the Chief I chanced to look up and caught two shining eyes staring malevolently at me from a darkened corner of the room. This creature blinked at me several times very rapidly, wiggled its mustache and suddenly disappeared into the thick shadows.
"Who is that?" I cried, startled.
"That's our mad photographer," said the Chief. "What do you think of him?"
"Do you keep him in there?" I asked, pointing to the coal-black cupboard-like room into which this strange creature had disappeared.
"Yes," said the Chief, "and he likes it. Often he stays there for days at a time, only coming out for air."

At this juncture there came from the dark room the sounds of breaking glass, which was immediately followed by strange animal-like sounds as the mad photographer burst out of his den and proclaimed to all the world that nothing meant very much in his life and that it would be absolutely immaterial to him if the paper and its entire 

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