And from the Youth’s breast pocket, the Captain removed a piece of foolscap, many times folded, now bearing the scarlet imprimatur of the heavy fate suffered by its owner, through which could barely be descried a few words writ in a firm, rounded hand:

“Camp DU, January 30

Well, Hannah,

I have got my Marching Orders. Action. There is word that I am to Annoy the Enemy. Tho half my brain tells me there is much amiss with the Plan, yet my Resolve is Strong and my Spirits High. I have it on Good Authority That They are but a trifling Lot, and much given to Hesitation when Communications are severed from their Leader. Oh, I shall give them such a dust-up!

Now do not worry, Hannah, for We cannot Fail and sure I will return to you and we shall eat peaches and scratch the Parakeets. How are little Sparky and Tim-tim? Get them a new Cuttle-bone, I beg of you, that their Beaks not be Overgrown when I return and They Nip Me in Their Birdly Joy. Because That Hurts.

Now abide for but a little While, dear Hannah; my mission Begins! I shall Write you Directly we Return to Camp, and I hope to Include a Souvenir or two of the Campaign.

Your own,
Pvt. Dan’l Pelican

This is all utterly delightful to read and is sending me out the door with a smile on my face, but the sheer genius of

Because That Hurts

deserves some sort of award for Comedic Valor.

O, thank you, Mrs Polly, for my genuine Hearty Laugh of the day.

You are brilliant!