p32  November 7, 1941 . . . .

Monday. My other wife seems to be laboring under the delusion that he is living in a four man room. He corps talking to someone or something he addresses as Jones. This is one of the most disturbing foibles he has ever developed. Especially as he and this Jones spend all their spare time discussing the robbery of the silver depository. In Philosophy today we did experiments. One of them involved a large sinister machine with a private electrical supply and a mind of its own, a dirty mind. If I had any blood to act as a conductor I would now be a corpse of most exceptional deadness. When I washed my teeth tonight I thundered.

Tuesday. My sane wife who falls out of his top bunk with monotonous regularity arranged a net last night to catch himself. The only result was that he fell out the end instead of the side and had his usual morning concussion anyway. I used to worry about what I was going to tell my other wife when Christmas leave began and he saw the other boys going home. It is evident now, however, that I will be able to tell him that it is just the chess club making a trip. Jones, although never formally introduced, is still living with us.

Wednesday. My other wife and Jones sat up late last night arguing the best method of forcing an entry into the silver depository. Today they made a personal reconnaissance. My other wife's idea of employing trained moles to tunnel in I think is impractical but I am not going to tell him as I have no wish to be drawn into this.

Thursday. The drawing department, which has been quietly going mad over the problem of my other wife, who would have to toss a coin to pick a circle from a straight line, has put him on a special course. They have given him some crayons and some pictures to color and if he does well on those they are going to put his name on the blackboard with a gold star. I will wager they keep all the yellow chalk they have. Tonight the argument between my other wife and Jones waxed exceedingly bitter. It ended in my other wife throttling Jones and throwing the body out the window. There will be a little more peace and quiet around here from now on, I hope.

Friday. My sane wife, from whom nothing is safe, has started boning the floor. I do not really mind, inasmuch as, as soon as he works down a square and stops to rest my other wife goes over and scuffs it up and thus they are both kept busy and happy. "The devil finds work for idle hands to do" is what I always say. At least it is what I always used to say until I heard about military calisthenics. The thought of the work these idle old hands are going to do when they begin makes me blench.

Saturday. Spent a very happy day. My other wife caused a disturbance at the hop by using a blackjack to cut in with. Some one finally cut back on him and he is now in bed with two pillows.

Sunday. Third classmen did not sit at ease in the mess-hall today.

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