Vol. I - No. 5-----Nov. 20, 1943----- Editor: Roz Richards
Subscription Rate----An Interesting Letter For Each Copy of the Drizzle

HEAR YE! HEAR YE!-You warriors with the weak writing wrists! Those of you who have yet to write The Drizzler a letter despite the facts that this issue marks our fifth month of "publication"-let's have some interesting news about your activities by return mail. I'm sure the rest of the fellows are anxious to hear about you. So, com'on, you loiterin' lads, let's have a little action. Remember, it takes only a few minutes to write a few lines, but it takes a good many hours to assemble and prepare each issue of The Drizzle. Okay, fellows, we're awaitin'.


Our good friend, "Roundy" Coughlin, widely read sports columnist of the Wisconsin State Journal, handed The Drizzle a nice orchid in his Saturday column. "Roundy," who is variously known as the Sage of Mendota, the Madison Comma Assassin, the Knight of Knowledge Knoll, and the Dean of the College of Common Sense, speaks of the Drizzle as "awful good" and as "a darn clever idea." Thank you, Prof. Coughlin!


Don't get me wrong, m'lads, don't get me wrong. I don't mean to either insinuate or suggest that this gay feminine heart-throbber has gone on a "loose" spending spree. Not at all. Most of you gentlemen may recall that Whitey holds onto his nickels and dimes with a hold that is really something to behold. What I mean to say is that the way this former intellectual and character builder of the Monticello high school faculty tears some of the rest of us apart is simply tee-riffic. You will recall that in the last issue of The Drizzle, Capt. Harold (Doc) Youngreen, stationed in the Hawaiian Islands, took a few very choice pot-shots at not only "The Great" Hill (billy), but also at Louie (The Lonely Lover) Wyss of Australia; P. Emil Voegeli of Scotland; C. J. (Jake, the Joker) Dick, then of California but more recently transferred to the east coast; "Boob" Kissling, the Kiss King; and "Bo" Woelffer, the Texas Tycoon, also known as the idol of the Army nurses' Corps. Well, to make a long story shorter, Youngreen of Hawaii punts to Hill of Georgia and, fellows, just look at the way Whitey parades with that pigskin. He's away for a sure touchdown so watch 'im go; "Doc (the Hawaiian) Youngreen withdrew to his bomb-proof shelter, the rascal, and sits there with that well known grin on his face, I suppose. I, too, withdrew, but for a different purpose-to the dayroom to be free from all noises while I try and give "I-can't-write-it-all-Roz" some inside dope.

"I notice that Youngreen didn't come out and dispute my claim that perhaps the editor's wife was the originator of this most welcome paper The Drizzle. Nor did Louis (I-can-forget-the-girls) Wyss dispute that fact because I know that Looey and several of the other fellows share my opinion as to the amount of cerebral matter possessed by one Roswell X. Richards. (Honestly, Whitey, I don't know nearly as much as you fellows think I do).

"So Lover Wyss thinks my troubles were minor. That, of course, depends on the interpretation of the word "trouble." As any good heart player knows, trouble, in Looey Wyss's case, is doing a minor detail like lunging out of bed before 10 a.m. The army probably gets Louis (The Sleeper) Wyss out from under by seven and so he thinks the whole world is set against him. "You know, Roz, that whenever "Boob" Kissling speaks or writes about women, he wants you to come back fast with that oldee about what a woman's man he is. No moss under his feet. If he has those Yale profs buffaloed as he had all but one of the high school faculty, he'll probably make the grade. Here, again, women will play a prominent part-that is, the farther away they are, the better because whenever a femme is around, "Boob" is sure to be just around the skirt. "John Steinmann had the crust to insinuate that I am quite an eater. Did I ever tell you about the time John invited me up to dinner and the festival never came to pass. John's excuse was that Irene, two, had her troubles. (The Drizzler'll have to admit, Whitey, that your use of the word 'two' as an adverb is a pretty neat play on words, referring as it does to the Steinmann twins). Seems John did invite me to his wedding celebration, however. Gee, but this halo is getting tight.

"I got a letter from Art Babler, the coast-guardsman, and he seems to be having trouble with his sea bag. And Art so recently married and already forgetting these words of faithfulness. "Heard from Carl Dick, too, but it was almost a year ago so don't remember what he had to say. Wonder if he has found any more Haddingers to do his work while he sits at a hospital desk with his feet cocked higher than his neck.

"Will someone tell me what strings were pulled by Paul (Light of Tongue) Voegeli to get that soft air corps job? He always could talk his way in and out of situations. I sure would have enjoyed seeing Paul in his winter uniform reporting in at Camp Wolters, Texas, in the month of June. Hot, wasn't it?

"Have been going to school for about a week, and truthfully, I've never been so busy in all my born days. Naturally I worked hard and long while teaching, but never 16 hours a day, 6 days a week as I'm doing now. Nerve-wracking, too. You sweat out all morning waiting to get a peak at that gig sheet at noon to see if a speck of dust got on your shoes after you left, or a wrinkle developed in your bed. Seventeen weeks of this. I'll come out a nervous wreck. Wish I had some of Ed Zweifel's easy goishness. I understand he is almost straightened out. "According to your list of assistants, Roz, you don't have much more to do than you do in your post office work.

"Lucky "Bo", he always did get the breaks. What about that western flame, Bo? Any truth to the rumors?

"Waiting for the next one-either a Drizzle or a girl. Whitey."


While we're still trying to duck and dodge the shrapnel which Whitey Hill has just tossed around with such reckless abandon, let's see what we've got comin' up next. Well, well, if it isn't a letter from Erv Spring and it's about time, Erv, it's about time. Prof. Spring is well and readily remembered, of course, as the former promising understudy of our eminent citizen and philosopher, Henry Jeremiah Elmer, former justice of the Monticello Supreme Court, some times known as Grocery Hank, and now the managerial wizard of the salmon and sardine departments of W. Ernie Blum's General Merchandise Mart. With Fritz Haldiman, Erv has been located in the Alaskan territory for a good many months. Listen to what he has to say:

"I guess it's about time I was paying my "dues" for my copies of the now famous Drizzle. I must say there really is some talent on the Drizzle staff. Some of the boys claim it can't be you. Well, I've known you for quite some time and think you're really at the old newspaper game again, and who could produce a Drizzle like that but you. (Nice going there, Erv, old boy, you're a man after 'me' own heart. Just so Whitey the Whizz and Looie the Lover read this).

"Say, Roz, show some of your authority and send Whitey (Girl-Shy) Hill up this way where he won't be bothered with mosquitoes and the terrible heat-and no girls to hide from either. I've already broken "Les" Weissmiller's record on the fresh milk deal and by the looks of things, I may make an all-time high mark on it. (The Drizzler interrupts here to explain that "Les," who is stationed on the little isle of Aruba off the coast of South America, made a trip to the mainland some weeks ago and there tasted his first glass of fresh milk in 16 months. And, incidentally-just as a reminder-all comments appearing throughout the Drizzle in parenthesis are those of the Drizzler. We're mentioning it now to avoid possible confusion). "I would like to be standing on the sidelines watching Royal (Drill) Woelffer doing his stuff drilling all those nurses. Now don't show any favors with them, Bo. I can't figure out how Jake (The Silent) Dick can hold down all those jobs, being president of the vast Haddinger-Dick Trucking Corporation back in the old home town and also production manager of MGM in Hollywood besides being in the army. Maybe you can answer that, Roz: (All I know, Erv, is that Jake is a very versatile young man. I believe that must account for it. Well I must close and be sure to keep Drizzling. Regards to all the gang. Your old backer. Erv."


"Art" Babler, the former capital city insurance broker, is still at Brooklyn (N. Y.) where he is a member of the coast guard. Art writes: "Thank you for sending me The Drizzle. Enjoy reading every bit of it. My three-months training period of indoctrination at Manhattan Beach will be over in December. Will most likely be moved to another coast guard base at that time, but of course don't know where it will be. As you know, the C. G. is part of the navy during war time so our uniforms and "boot" training is much the same as in the regular navy. Have found living out of a seabag a great contrast to my days as a civilian. Rather enjoy parts of my training here. Have heard that Carl Dick may be in the vicinity. Certainly hope we can contact each other before one or the other of us has to change locations again. Have been in New York City a few times and enjoyed it. Getting around the city in a dim out is not like going down State Street in Madison. Will appreciate you keeping me as one of the Drizzle subscribers. It is indeed a pleasure to know that I can get all the dope about my pals and acquaintances in this one source of information. Thanks again to you and your assistants." . . From Cpl. Paulus A. Roth, Monroe, who is well known to many Monticelloans and who is still stationed at Camp Edwards, Mass.: "Received the last issue of the Drizzle and enjoyed every word of it. Are having plenty of hard work here now. Fifteen-mile night hikes and the toughest obstacle course I have seen-40 odd obstacles, including "dummy" attacks from trees, etc. New "bayonet" course is also a peach. To top it all off-the "infiltration course." It's "heads down" instead of "heads up" 125 yards on your stomach close to the ground under barbed wire with live machine-gun fire only 30 inches from ground." . . John Streiff, the former local grocery baron, who was recently inducted into the army, is now stationed at Camp Wolters, Texas. Says John: "They keep us very busy down here so I haven't had time to write a letter to you, but I will in a very short time. Boy, I'll take all the snow and cold weather you have up there now to this country. About all it is is sand and brush. The days have been hot and the nights cool." (John's wife, Olga, expects to leave for Texas in another couple of weeks). . . From Sgt. Warren J. Murphy, Camp Barkeley, Texas, former chief hash-slinger in the Midway Lunch Palace owned and operated by J. Pierpont Lobbs, president of the local Bank of Greece: "I certainly got a big boost to my low spirits when I read the last Drizzle. Roz, I thank you and all your helpers for it-it was so good to hear from all the fellows. Do you remember Fred Marty, who used to live in Jimtown? They moved to California a number of years ago. (Why, sure, I remember little Freddie. Gosh, when Freddie's family left here for Albany to reside there before leaving a few years later for the west, he was barely knee-high to a cricket. And now he's in the army! Say, am I getting old?-or what?) I met Fred in Abilene recently. He is in training in the 54th battalion and is a truck driver. Two of his brothers are in the army, too. I'm writing this out in the bivouac area 22 miles from camp. Seems like we are miles from civilization and we must spend 15 days here. It's a very rough life. We have to do all kinds of improvising in the kitchen. Everybody must wear a gas mask, leggings, and steel helmet at all times. The helmet is so heavy that it makes my neck ache and my head is sore. The gas mask is uncomfortable, too. This morning we had to put on our masks in a hurry because they let some gas loose near the kitchen to get us used to the real thing."


Wherein The Drizzler devotes special comment to certain sections of certain subscriber's letters, these comments appearing in parenthesis: Says Whitey Hill: "If he (Boob Kissling) has those Yale profs buffaloed as he had all but one of the high school faculty, he'll probably make the grade." (Oh, modesty, where is they sting?) . . Whitey speaks again in the same vein: "Naturally, I worked hard and long while teaching." (Aw, bull-o-ney, Whitey, Bull-OH!-ney! The Drizzler well remembers how you used to sneak out of school around 3 p.m. and then duck from light post to light post as you advanced along Main Street, hiding from members of the board of education. Boy, with all this rich experience you've already had outfoxing the "enemy" you oughta be a regular crackerjack leading your outfit when the time comes for The Big Attack. . . Writes Leo Felts from Cuba: "The customs down here are a little hard to get used to. All girls have to be chaperoned, and you can't even kiss them until you have become engaged." (I'll bet some of our more talented Romeos like "Bo" Woelffer and W. J. (Murph) Murphy would sooner be sent to Alcatraz than Cuba. And what an awful spot it'd be for Kissling, the Kiss King!) . . From Carl (Babs) Babler: "Has Whitey Hill changed, Roz? The reason I asked is that when Whitey went up to the Insurance Co. office to see Art the last time he was here, one of the girls wanted to know who that handsome sergeant was?" (He hasn't changed a bit, Babs, not a bit. The poor girl must have been merely suffering from a case of acute stigmatism).


If any of you fellows think that Lieut. "Bo" Woelffer-he's a first lieutenant now, gentlemen-doesn't wield a pretty wallopy pen, just listen to the way he lays it on: "Through channels to "Heartless Harold" Youngreen, a former campus lover, who learned his tricks while battling P. E. (Duke) Voegeli, the former Rentless Rack and King of the Court, to tie sets when Monticello had lawn tennis courts. Subject: Military Training. In regard to close order drill, I find that using the first mechanism of instruction diligently makes any of the methods of instructions easy. It brings results. What a platoon-snappy on the drill field, indeed. Youngreen, the "Swede," learned that the army stresses these mechanisms and methods at the Surgeon's West Point, Carlisle; the "Sparta Spoofer" is now learning them at Fort Benning and I, unfortunately, sweat them out on the sands of Texas. I am proud of the home town for the way the people supported the War Loan. That was fine spirit. So long for now, Chief, and how about some ratings for your staff-lst Sgt. Karlson, Sgts. Hoesly and Lewis, Cpls. Bud, Diz, and Sunny, and PFC. Gene." (A nice idea, Bo, and now just a minor little matter which I know you can take care of without much trouble. How about using a fleck of your influence with the war department and arrange for salaries to correspond with these ratings? I'm quite sure the staff wouldn't resist and then everything'd be as Jake as Jake Dick). . From Tommy (The Barber) Brusveen, erstwhile beautifier of Monticello's male population, now at Camp Pickett, Va.,: "It was a real inspiration to see how the home town went over in the Bond Drive. It makes us feel good to know the home folks are punching like that. We have been having some amphibious training at Camp Bradford and are going to have some more. The next part of the program sounds like a banana-boat ride. But, of course, we know nothing about that for sure. Really had some new experiences in this amphibious work. Will tell you about one rainy and stormy day we were out. We waded to our hips and on the way out it rained so much, water got into our craft. Some of the men were standing in water up to their knees. And half of the men, including the captain, got sea-sick and vomited right in the boat. I know that isn't nice to be talking about, but it wasn't nice to be in, either. I was lucky enough to be in another boat. Even though it was rough, only one of our men got sick." . . "Al" Deppeler, student in the Army Specialized Training Unit 4765, Colorado School of Mines at Golden, Colo., writes: "My military classes are my most interesting classes. The teacher is a first lieutenant who fought in Java and New Guinea. He really gets the material across because he has actually experienced all the problems he gives us. He must have gone through some tough times because he only weighs about 130 compared to 180 when he left the states. I imagine my subjects are the same as "Boob" Kissling's. I sure wish I would have studied more in high school when Hill was trying to get the class of '41 to absorb a little chemistry and physics." (Come, come, "Al", you must be kiddin'. You don't really mean that you could'uv learned anything from Whitey, do you? I understand, however, that our good friend Hill is the peer of the professorial profession when it comes to teaching-not the 3 R's-but the 3 Uffs: Bluff, Fluff, 'n' Stuff). . . When Lt. Betty Woelffer wrote her letter to The Drizzler, she was stationed at Camp McCoy, but since then she has been transferred to the 98th Evacuation Hospital near Yuma, Arizona: "It was a pleasant feeling when I received The Drizzle as I was really looking forward to it. The other girls think it's the berries, too. (That's mighty fine, Betty, but what I'm more interested in is what the girls think of the editor. May I assume that I'm included in that bunch of berries? Now, listen, fellows, no sarcasm from the sidelines.) The work on the wards is quite different from civilian hospitals, but it is a lot more fun. We nurses are the supervisors over the wardmen but truthfully they know more about it than we do so many times we are told what to do. We don't mind. The boys are really very nice patients and very willing to pitch in and help. As you recall Sparta is Whitey Hill's home town and the things I hear about him! Some Fellow!" . .


Okay, then, here we go: S/Sgt. LaVerne Sauer, the former Monticello pastry prince, is now stationed at Sheppard Field, Wichita Falls, Texas, having been transferred from Harlingen where Sgt. "Hank" Van Houten apparently is still located. Verne has started out to become an aviation cadet and hopes to get his appointment any day. He writes that he misses duck hunting, but that he has been having much fun doing some white wing hunting-a bird something like a dove. By the way, Verne, how are things down in the Delavan direction? . . A nice letter from Frances Voegeli Hoskins brings the very welcome news that her husband, Lt. Jack Hoskins, who has been ill for some months, is now much improved. Fran has "a ton of praise" for the Drizzle, and says that Jack, who is a Dodgeville product, also reads every word of it. The Hoskins are still in Atlanta, Ga. . Sgt. Wilbert A. Marty, tail gunner on a Flying fortress and one of The Drizzle's most faithful war correspondents, has landed safely and well overseas, according to a cablegram just received by his folks. It is not known whether Wilbert made the trip across via water or air. Undoubtedly he'll be seeing some real action soon. His brother, Cpl. Melvin Marty, is still stationed at Camp Gordon, Johnston, Fla. It will be three years next March since Melvin and Emil Weigert, also at the same camp, were inducted into the army. "Mel" looked fit as a fiddle when he was here on a furlough recently, the principal object of his visit being to become acquainted with his infant daughter. . . Sgt. Debbie Moritz arrived home Saturday on a 15-day furlough after seven months of maneuvers in the state of Tennessee. He is now at Camp Atterbury, near Columbus, Ind. Transferring to the new camp, he went by truck as far as Fort Knox and then by plane to Atterbury where he was almost immediately given a furlough. . Mrs. Marion Voegeli Taylor recently returned to Washington where she is now private secretary to the Flight Commander of the Royal Australian Air Force. Her husband, Lt. Robert Taylor, is aboard the U.S.S. Iowa, one of the nation's greatest and deadliest battlewagons of the sea. . . Pvt. P. F. Blumer writes that he is feeling fine and making good progress in the depot supply school at Camp Lee, Va., where he has been located for the past few months. P. F. has had lots of experience in the quartermaster's corps both as a civilian and as a soldier and so the courses he is now taking are right down his alley. . . Major "Les" Weissmiller, who had hoped to get back to the states on leave this fall, now probably won't make it before next March which will mark the end of his second year in the Caribbean area. . .


From Leo Felts down in Cuba: "Received the second copy of the Drizzle on the 2nd. Boy! Was I happy to see it in the mails. I sure hope they keep coming. I'm expecting a transfer soon and I sure hope it is sea duty-which I think it will be. I have always wanted to go to sea, but so far haven't been that lucky. The customs down here are a little hard to get used to. All girls have to be chaperoned, and you can't even kiss them until you have become engaged. That isn't the biggest difficulty, though. Trying to find one that can speak English is the greatest problem. Please give my regards to all the boys." . . Don Trickle, Somewhere in the Southwest Pacific: "I told you last time about our campaign in New Georgia. I am still resting a bit, getting ready for more action. If any of the fellows back home are itching to get into the thick of it over here, they'd better change their minds. Fighting in the awful heat of these jungle islands isn't what the movies picture it to be. Hope you can read my penmanship. Am writing this on a magazine in my lap with candles for light and half the time the wind blows them out. Please keep the Drizzles coming. They're the best inside info I've ever read. As ever, Don." . . From T/Cpl. Louis (The Lonely Lover) Wyss, Australia's famous favorite with the femmes: "Am a couple day's late with this letter, but I have a good alibi. One Drizzle at a time is Ok, but when I get two in one day, my frail little body can't stand it so I had to take a day off to recuperate. (D'you want me to send you a package of vitamin tablets with this one, Looie?) After a few beers-that's what they call it-and a porterhouse steak, I regained enough strength to carry on again. I hope Whitey Hill doesn't have the misfortune of coming over here after he completes his officer's training as we have open season and no limit on fellows like him. (Oh-Oh, Whitey, what did you ever do to merit such treatment. You must have taken The Lonely Lover through the cleaners in a few card games while he was still half asleep). I am wondering if Jake the Joker Dick has ever broken his silence and explained if he was picking his peach or peaches. I wonder what his partner W. Morgenthau Haddinger thinks of Jake's sideline. It is now time to fight for a seat at the G. I. movie. Until next time, lots of luck to all the boys. As ever, Tony." (Just a minute before you go to the show, Tony. Let's have you tell us just what that letter "T" before your new rank stands for? Oh, yes, I thought you'd say Technician or something like that, but that's too darned technical for me. I'll bet you one of Roy Woelffer's extra heavys that it stands for Teahound! What do the rest of you fellows think?) . . . From Wendell Miller, who's way, way over there in the Iran desert: "Although the temperature ranges from 160 to 180 in the daytime here, it gets cool enough at night so we have to use a blanket so at least we get a good night's sleep. The people here are half wild. They live in mud huts. Some of them have herds of sheep, camels, goats, and donkeys. The animals live on the waste garbage from the army camps. The boys back home don't know how lucky they are. I haven't seen any grass, trees, or flowers since I left the states. Next month the rains start. Then is when the boys will get sick and even now a lot of them are in the hospital" . . Pvt. Robert E. (Zoom) Blumer, the former Car Crashing Champion of Monticello, is now stationed in northern Ireland. For months he was in Iceland. Recently he has been in England and also in Scotland. "England is quite a place," writes Bob, "Bet you'd like it, too." With him in the same outfit are Lloyd Deppeler and Johnny Blumer, both of the Monticello area. . . Sgt. Cecil Wirth, the town's budding aeronautical genius in the years before he chose to become a Marine, writes The Drizzler from "In the Field" Somewhere in the Southwest Pacific. The sergeant is very enthusiastic about The Drizzle, but when he begins to say just a little something about himself, the censor steps in with his scissors and clips eight or ten lines. "Cec" is now on his 20th month out of the states and hopes that "it will not be too many more." . . From aboard the S.S. Williamson out on the Pacific ocean, Ensign "Ed" Klassy pens these interesting lines: "Right now I am hanging on with one hand and trying to write with the other. This ship has rolled over 30% in this rather mild sea tonight which isn't bad considering the 56% rolls they hit last winter. The sensation of a bad pitch and roll is hard to explain. Guess we look more like a sub at times and I consider myself lucky in that I'm not bothered with sea-sickness. I like it aboard the S. S. Williamson. Willie we all call her. This Tin Can Navy of ours is everything you have ever heard. The men are a cocky but friendly group who have a rough life when the seas kick up and take it on the chin when the going gets tough. This ship carries many scars and has been very lucky to get back on several occasions. I'm kept busy these days taking care of the gunnery and commissary duties-our senior gunnery officer has been in the hospital for some time-along with standing my regular watches."


From "Boob" Kissling, the eminent Yale scholar, historian, and authority on romance: "there is a bunch of air corps fellows here taking a course in mechanics. We have a song we sing that gets them a little mad. It's about the junior birdman. In retaliation, they wake us up when they walk by our dorm-you see they get up at 4:30. So to meet this situation, we got some paper sacks, filled them with water, and bombed the air corps. Two days later the Yale college newspaper featured this headline: "A.S.T.P. Bombs Air Corps." It probably will end up like the lawyers and engineers feud at Wisconsin." ("Boob" was recently a Sunday dinner guest of Howie Odell, Yale's head football coach, who was backfield tutor at Wisconsin during the winter months a couple years ago. I imagine Odell is plenty short on ration points after Boob's knife and fork performance). . . From Carl (Babs) Babler, who's taking much the same course at Wisconsin as Boob is at Yale: "they really have us hopping here, Roz. We just finished our mid-semester exams for the second term and were they Luloos! A guy really has to stay on the beam because low grades mean back to the troops. Have another vacation coming Dec. 4th and it's awful nice to walk only two blocks to get home on furlough. Keep The Drizzle coming. It's the best I've seen yet." . . . From Emil Weigert, Camp Gordon, Johnston, Fla.: "After reading how Monticello backed the bond Drive, we all know and feel sure you folks back home are behind us all the way. Even this lost and forgotten section of Florida seems brighter. We're now exploring the swamps on this reservation. We captured a couple of baby alligators and killed a number of rattlers. After every problem we always carry a good portion of Florida mud back to our barracks on our shoes and uniforms. Well, my whistle is getting dry so here I go for a Budweiser. More power to you, The Drizzler, and all my good friends who help make it possible for us to receive it."


"Bud" Wirth is here from Great Lakes on a 9-day furlough, spending most of his time getting acquainted with his infant son. Bud's a second class seaman and likes the navy a lot. Enroute here who should he bump into at Madison but Armie Loeffel on his way home on a 17-day furlough from the army camp at Redding, Calif. . . Olin Mitmoen leaves Hamilton Field (Calif.) today, arrives here Tuesday on a 14-day furlough. . . Howie Steinmann has received his commission as a second lieutenant in the Marines at Quantico, Va. . . I was just going to say that since Dick (The Dateless) Schoonover is back at the U.W. I don't suppose he ever, ever goes near sorority row when what do you suppose should drop out of the clear blue sky and land on my typewriter but this tidbit by Pat Hogg in "Hitting the Badger Beat" in the Daily Cardinal: "Help! Help! Dick Schoonover is about to the point of calling on the army for help. It seems that since his return from the wilds of Missouri where they made him into a soldier, the entire Law School moved in on Alice Dusold. What can a poor soldier do against a bunch of Lawyers?" All I've got to say, Dick, is that you don't know how lucky you are. 'Sposing Whitey, Bo, "Murph" and Jake the Joker, those royalists of romance, were in Madison? You'd really have competition then! Incidentally, it might be well for you to keep a watchful eye peeled on "Babs."


To these Drizzle donors: R. W. Woelffer, W. E. Blum, C. M. Stauffer, Adam Schuler, L. R. Pease, "Doc" Baebler, Jack Steinmann, B. L. Clarke, H. E. Babler, Jake Burgy, Edw. Wittwer, Erwin Kissling, Fred Stauffer, Mrs. John G. Blum, "Doc" Horne, and Anonymous. Thus ends another Drizzle. Until December, then, fellows. Loads of Luck to every one of you!

 The Monticello Drizzle, created for the Monticello Area Historical Society
by Roger and Madeleine Dooley.
A softcover copy can be purchased by contacting
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