[image ALT: Much of my site will be useless to you if you've got the images turned off!]
mail:
Bill Thayer

[image ALT: Cliccare qui per una pagina di aiuto in Italiano.]
Italiano

[Link to a series of help pages]
Help
[Link to the next level up]
Up
[Link to my homepage]
Home
previous:

[image ALT: link to previous section]
March 27

This webpage reproduces a section of
The Collected Works
of Ducrot Pepys

by
Ronan C. Grady

Newburgh, N. Y., 1943

The text is in the public domain.

This page has been carefully proofread
and I believe it to be free of errors.
If you find a mistake though,
please let me know!

next:

[image ALT: link to next section]
April 24

This site is not affiliated with the US Military Academy.

 p47  April 10, 1942 . . . .

Monday. We have all returned from Long Week End. I was surprised no little to see my other wife as I have a clear memory of burying him under an oak tree in Central Park bright and early Sunday morning. It was one of the many happy memories I brought back with me. My sane wife is in quite a run‑over condition. The only thing about him that appears worth salvaging is his tongue which is long and black and hangs ten inches out of his mouth. It would make an excellent boot sole. West Point is just the same as ever except our Tactical Officer has learned a new trick. He is reporting people for "Dirty clothes concealed in laundry bag."


[image ALT: A drawing of a man wearing a jacket made distinctive by a wide stripe down the center and along the lower edge, also on the cuffs; he is standing with a frightened expression, his arms crossed in front of his face, warding off the blow of an axe the shadow of which is seen on the viewer's right. It is a cartoon of a West Point cadet who has returned from a weekend to face the ire of his roommate.]

"I was surprised no little to see my other wife. . ."

Tuesday. Spring is coming, even to West Point. Today a robin set on me and attempted to eat me. I probably would not have escaped if it had not seen a worm that it liked better. Also today a bud burst right beside me inflicting fresh wounds. The real signs of spring however, are being manifested by my roommate. My other wife has started sitting around Battle Monument with a far away look in his eyes and a lariat in his hand. My sane wife is writing to a blonde girl who has hair the color of a b‑plate that he has fallen in love with. I mean he has fallen in love with a b‑plate and is writing to a young lady whose hair is the same color as the aforesaid b‑plate. I find my own fancy turning also, although in keeping with the gloomy tenor of my life I incline to the brunette.

Wednesday. Today I was Cadet in Charge of Quarters. Every day and in every way it is borne home to me that I am one of life's little failures.

Thursday. Spring has even reached into the polar coldness of our Tactical Officer's heart. Today my table was dusty and He only reported me for "dusty table" instead of "Conspiring against established authority" as is His usual wont. My other wife weary of half‑way measures is now operating a trap-line on Trophy Point. Unsuccessfully, so far.

Friday. Some day the authors of our Calculus book are going to drive us a little too far. They are continually saying, "It is evident from the above that such and such is true." The above being two or three paragraphs of mixed ancient Hittite and early runes. When I am emperor I am going to have a set of books bound with their skin and allow them to watch the process. Sooner or later my other wife is going to have to lie down and then I am going to finish the job I started in New York.

Saturday. No Saturday Inspection today as we played air‑raid. Our Tactical officer cried like a hurt child.

Sunday. My pet germ left me today because my corpuscles bullied him.


[image ALT: Valid HTML 4.01.]

Page updated: 16 Aug 12

Accessibility