29th (January 1918)

Fritz started shelling again soon after our return from exercising.  I am satisfied that mules are omnivorous.  My chap who ate the snow balls, today partook of army biscuit, bread, a large lump of paper greased with bacon and about half of a small willow tree.  He has also taken to smoodging me in a manner quite embarrassing.  Today they all had their necks scrubbed with vile-smelling anti-mange mixture, which my fussier donk resented, nearly knocking me and the vet’s assistant out.

The peace talk in the papers is to us an enthralling subject.  A number of us are to have our mules dipped.  My mules have gone back on me as far as jumping is concerned; with true mulishness they now refuse to jump even the narrowest gutter and I am ignominiously compelled to make all sorts of detours.

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