My Dear Little
[October 29, 1916]
It is exactly two years ago to the day that
I got smashed up. I recall that at that time there was no communication
trench between the first line of trenches and the command post. After
nightfall you could be groping around for hours looking for the commander's
post, as naturally there was no light to show you where it was.
We used to call that guarding the cows.
I was guarding the cows when my number came
Today being a Sunday, I'll take advantage
of it by announcing that I loathe work of any kind.
I was born idle and I worship laziness.
They claim that work ennobles one, but I claim it makes one vile. At the
risk of confirming my out and out amorality, I proclaim that were I not
obliged to earn my living, I wouldn't do a damn thing, nothing, nothing
As it's a Sunday, I'll recount a little
tale which you may know-
One day the Good Lord was taking a walk
among the Balkans-He meets a native who looks much aggrieved-He inquires
of him "What is the matter, my good friend?"-Silence-"Well, I shall grant
you whatever you wish and to prove to you that I am good to everyone,
your neighbors will receive the double of what you have received." "In
that case," said the Balkan, "make me blind in one eye."
There you are-And still, because it's a
Sunday, I'm going to give you a little problem to solve. You may already
have been asked to solve it before. There are two cows in a beautiful
green meadow-one of them is white, thin, mere skin and bone-the other
one is black with a shiny coat-fat and radiant with health -All of a sudden-the
enraged and furious white cow leaps on the poor, placid black cow and
sticks its horns up its butt. So now, which cow can say, "I've got horns
up the ass?????"