Chapter 4 No.4

In peace or war we cannot do without the ladies. They brighten this weary world, cheer us when we are in the depths, and tend us 'when pain and anguish wring the brow.' Our mothers mould our characters, our sisters help to keep us clean, while other men's sisters provide the love and the inspiration so needful to man. And war is good for the business of Cupid. Danger gives admiration scope, and promotes the deeper affection.

Adela was my star. When drill and lectures were done, I basked in her smiles and played the old, old game. But, like all women, she loved to tease. It was, therefore, in keeping with her character to send me the following:

'My dear Johnnie,-Don't come on Saturday, as I shall be engaged. We are having two Australians to lunch, and shall be busy all day. You will understand. Love.

Adela.'

That was all she said. Two Australians! I felt annoyed, for these Cornstalks are the deadly rivals of the British Army. One of them had stolen my little French girl in La Bassée, while another had eloped with my V.A.D. from a Strand hotel. No, it wasn't good enough, and I loudly swore.

'What's wrong, John?' inquired Beefy.

'Adela is booked for Saturday. The Anzacs are cutting me out. I'm fed up!'

'I'm in your boat too, old chap. Her sister is apparently on the same stunt. She sent me word this morning, but I am not worrying. There's lots of girls in this world. A little change will do us good. I'm fed up being respectable. Women are the limit. They're getting too sure of themselves. They're like trout-want a lot of playing before you land them. There's nothing like cold indifference to bring them round.'

'You're an authority, Beefy.'

'Well-yes. I've paid for my experience. I've loved everything from a parlour-maid to a general's daughter. They're all the same. As Kipling says:

The colonel's lady

And Judy O'Grady

Are sisters under their skin.

'Pursue them, lavish the wealth of a millionaire on them, yield them your life and soul, and they'll go round the corner to-the other fellow.

They're contrary,

And they're wary;

They're devils till they die.'

'You're a cynic, Beefy. You've met the wrong sort. You can't expect barmaids and ballet-girls to have souls. They trade their charms and squander their affections, but the real decent kind are not half-bad. I've a weakness for the opposite sex.'

'Oh, you're a ruddy idealist. You're always up in the moon. You're too trusting. One can't trust a woman. If I had my way, I'd go over to the system of the Moslems.'

'You're blasé, Beefy. You have had such a good time that you think the world has gone wrong. What's the good of being a cynic? I'm not posing, old chap, but I do think there's a lot of goodness in modern girls if you care to search for it. Why, they're real sports! Look what they're doing to win the war. They're nursing, driving, ploughing, and cooking, without a grouse. It's a great revelation! This war has given them their opportunity. You can't put these girls into harems after the war. Your mentality is crooked, Beefy.'

'Per-haps! All the same, I'm convinced the modern girl is neurotic. I may be blasé and all that, but I'd much sooner have the steady old Mid-Victorian type than these short-skirted creatures, who love a naval man on Monday and elope with a soldier on Tuesday. Seems to me they want only a good time. A fellow with a Rolls-Royce has a better chance than a man with a Ford. Women judge you by your cheque-book. They want to hook the fellow who can give them everything from a pug-nosed poodle to a collar of diamonds. They're nearly all adventuresses, and the only chap they understand is the primitive one who spanks them hard when they get into their tantrums. Women are all right when they're mastered. We men are long-suffering, and much too generous to the average girl.'

'Love keeps a woman straight, Beefy.'

'Yes-love and the whip. Force appeals to women. They admire pugilists, and even the most beautiful women like to marry big, strong, ugly, powerful creatures-Neros rather than Apollos. I tell you, John, that women to-day are as primitive as Eve.'

'You're a jealous devil, Beefy. You want your own way. Freedom apparently is made for you, and not for the girl. I'm no great Christian, but I do think if you trust a girl she will always play the game.'

'Oh, you're a blinkin' ass!'

'Why?'

'Adela has just told you not to come to-day, as she is busy with the Anzacs. And yet you talk about trust!'

'That's true. Still, on reflection, it would be an impertinence for us to warn all the other fellows off the track. If I'm annoyed, I'm not going to be narrow-minded about it. Besides, I'm not engaged to the girl. I've an open mind so far as a mate is concerned. I'm simply looking around, and I won't endorse your barbarian creeds. Why, Beefy, you're almost a Hun where the other sex is concerned. Come on, you silly old ass; let's go and get some fresh air,'

'All right, John Bunyan,' mumbled Beefy, shoving on his cap and sauntering out of the camp.