"I named it after you, you old glum head.

Remember how you told me a feller couldn't aim straight, _kind of_" (he mimicked Tom's tone).

"You said a feller couldn't aim straight, _kind of_, if he smoked cigarettes." "I got to admit I was wrong," said Tom.
"You bet you have! Jingoes, it's good to hear you talk!" Roscoe laughed.
"How in the world did you get here, anyway ?" "I'll tell you all about it," said Tom, "only first tell me, are you the feller they call the Jersey Snipe ?" "Snipy, for short," said Roscoe.
"Then maybe you saved my life already," said Tom, "out in No Man's Land." "Were you the kid on that wheel ?" Roscoe asked, surprised.
"Yes, and I always knew you'd make a good soldier.

I told everybody so." "_Kind of ?_ Tommy, old boy, don't forget it was _you_ made me a soldier," Roscoe said soberly.

"Come on back to my perch with me," he added, "and tell me all about your adventures.