Published when ever the editor feels the urge-which he hopes will be
at least once a month. Subscription Rate: A letter
from each subscriber in return for each copy of "The Drizzle" every month, each letter to contain a personal message or a
few lines of interest to the rest of the fellows on the circulation list. If this idea hits the spot, probably with your help and
co-operation, we can expand it into a longer "publication" to act as a sort of clearing house or exchange center of ideas,
news, and greetings for many of the local boys in the service of Uncle Sam. Let's have your reaction to The Drizzle and if
it's favorable, I'll do mybest to uphold my end of the job.
Other sample copies of this issue will go forth in the mails when I
find the time, but the Lucky (?) Five Honor Roll
Subscribers receiving this maiden blast are: Sgt. Urho G. (Whizz) Hill, famous stimulant to lonely feminine hearts and
some times quite accurately known as "The Sparta Spoofer"; C. J. (Jake the Joker) Dick, vice-president of the
Haddinger-Dick Trucking Trust and also becoming known as the "California Calliope"; Lieut. Bo (Peep) Woelffer,
once almost-destined-to-be Adams township plantation operator; Robert E. (Zoom) Blumer, the Idol of Iceland, whose
record of seven consecutive automobile smash-ups still stands unchallenged locally, and Erwin (Boobleberger)
Kissling, distinguished lifeguard, student of current affairs, and widely recognized authority on love and romance.
WELL IF YOU'RE ALL SET, FELLAS, WE'LL START RAMBLING AT RANDOM:
Joe Legler, old Two-Gun himself, leaves Wednesday on his return to Georgia after a short furlough. Joe's a sergeant now.
"Doc" Harden and "Peg" Lynn, with their families, returned recently
from a fishing jaunt to Three Lakes, the doctor
bringing home a 33-inch muskie. The local folks saw as many as 50 deer within an hour while they were upstate. Easy
there, Sgt. Hill, get that idea out of your head about going A. W. O. L. and high-lining it for Three Lakes. It was 50 deer-
NOT 50 DEARS! Incidentally, "Peg's" a busy man these days, spending his spare time "down on the farm" east of town.
They say he is perfecting a scientific development which promises to revolutionize farming. Prof. Lynn has blended the
Mexican jumping bean with his seed oats and now when he cuts his grain, it'll just simply jump into shocks itself. . Word
comes from Madison that on July 10th Arthur W. (Slug) Babler, the notoriously boisterous capital city insurance broker,
was licensed to wed Leone M. Krueger. Too bad Whitey Hill, Jake Dick, and some of the other notorious local shake-
down artists aren't here to put the touch on Art for steak dinners, providing you could find the steaks. . HOME TOWN
STREET SCENES: "Doc" Horne, president of the Monticello Polar Bear club, lolling on Main Street benches during his
spare time, soaking up the sunshine. . Jack Zweifel, astride his beautiful Arabian horse, clattering up the Main Stem and
into the side streets in the early hours almost any evening. Jack probably'd never admit it, but he may be grooming himself
and his hoss for the Derby next year. Keep your eyes focused on Churchill Downs, gentlemen, and don't be too surprised
if Monticello is represented among the starters. And if you find my hunch is correct, take a tip from this tipster: Lay your
jack on Jack! . . Walt (Will-o'-the-Wisp) Haddinger, renowned local capitalist, sportsman, trucking magnate, and
feminine heart balm, strolling down the canyon between the bank and the bakery (Monticello's Wall Street), whistling
merrily to himself. Apparently, he had just made a fat-'n'-flabby bank deposit to the credit of the Haddinger-Dick
Trucking Monopoly. . ODDS-'N'-ENDS: Lieut. Paul Voegeli, stationed in England, recently had an eight-day furlough,
took a trip to Edinburgh and other interest points in Scotland. . Luke Lemon, the Washington township rancher,
a father for the first time in seventeen years of married life. The stork brought the Lemons an eight-pound-
twelve-ounce son at 9 p. m. Friday, causing Grandpa Jesse's eyes to bulge with happiness as he exclaimed the next day:
"Betcher life! That's just what I wanted! Now the Lemon name won't die out!". . Well, fellas, we're way down to here.
Shall we keep Drizzling? Or shall The Drizzle drizzle into a fizzle? It's up to you.