Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-05-25
Continued from page 4

And then as it lifted its ragged folds into
the air the voice commanded. "Salute!"
Painting, but rigid. the men of Sheridan
Post brought their heels together and stood
at salute as the bunting whipped up its low
height, caught wandering breeze, and flap
ped out over its last field. AIaloney made
a last desperate effort; but the bugle trem
bled in his hands and was mute. Twice he
bravely tried, then leaned heavily against
the nearest man, white, suffering, and spent.
Around them were shouts, curses, denuncIa-
tons. At their feet the man who had been
preaching anarchy sat up in daze and
wiped from his forehead a tiny, trlckllng,
sanguinary stream. The weak voice of the
commander attempted to make itself heard.
1t could not. Only the thin line of blue
standing guard beside the flag heard the
Colonel's next words.
"AIajor Major Sherwood he implored.
"You can make them hear. l can't. Tell
them, old comrade, for Cod sake, tell them
how mistaken they are!'
A S if this too were bugle CALL the little
= man sprang forward, and leaned across
the flinsy railing and held up his hand.
There was that in his attitude, his age, his
appearance, that made the mob pause and
listen when the deep voice doomed out. as If
ii
"Listen!' he said. "Give me but few
words You ask for fair play. That is all
we ask-fair play!'
Slowly the great crowd hushed, and those
on the edges strained themselves to hear
what might be said. He waited until as
sured that his voice would carry.
an every cause that the world has known
there have been two sides. Sometimes it
took blood and tears to decide the just; but
always through the immutable wisdom OF
God Almighty the just side won. We, my
comrades and l, are not here to adjudicate
the cause you represent. We. like you, do
not know. You see the rich man, pilterer
or prodigy, perhaps, driving past you in his
automobile, and are embittered. Whether
he is pilferer. dka prodigy, | cannot say;
yet appreciate the hopelessness of the man
whose family suffers, and starves, and dies,
the misery of the man who sees his little
girls, childish, untempered, uniformed, driven
to work lest soul and body part for want of
wages and food. And too know the anguish
of the voice that cries aloud to God. Why?
Why can such things be?'
But, Men, back of it all, almost as big,
it seems to me- as God Himself, is that thing
which has become the earthly god of my
comrades and me, the emblem that stands
for us as the emblem of justice, and right
the flag, the flag of our country! Other men.
believing it a banner of injustice, have tried
to tear it down today You can tear it
down; but you can't tear down what it
stands fora nation founded on the prin-
ciple of freedom, and the right to advance
by individual worth; that men are equal;
that men shall profit in keeping with their
intelligence. their humanity, their kindness!
1t stands for us! Under it we cling to the
ideal! Under it we strive and hope, and never
yet has righteous army fought beneath it
and failed to win! More than million men
fought for or against it, before most of you
were born, and yet it flies. and those who
fought against it are as proud of it as those
who fought for it. What are your paltry
struggles and puny disputes compared to
the life of the flag, the flag some of you have
today dishonored? What of your families,
you ask?
"And so do l ask you, what of the thou
sands of families wrecked by the Civil War
which decided whether that flag should sur
vive? Shame on you! Was there no Ameri-
can here to offer his life rather than that
flag should have been torn down and tram
pied under foot? Was there no man here
who would fight, and fight, and gloriously die,
rather than see his countrv's flag pulled
down? Is it possible that there is among
you none worthy of being called Americana
Is it possible that there IS none among you