The Catholic bulletin. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1911-1995, 1916-08-19

who subdues "the little tyrants Of the
fields" and at last yields to age and
toll and disease.
The KnItter.
On my first morning out of Winni-
peg, as was rising from my alleged
bed where | was supposed to have
rested during the night, my hair
caught in button of the curtain. The
accident no sooner occurred than an
old lady in black from the opposite
compartment sprang to my aid and
very deftly disengaged me, asking at
the same time if we're trying to play
Absalom. She was old and wrinkled
and bore her age frankly, nor en-
ployed any other auxiliary against it's
rayages than cleanliness and neatness.
Out of gray bag she took ball
of gray yarn and proceeded to "set
up" a sock for soldier boy. Wool at
the top and foot and cotton in the leg,
she explained, for the boys complained
of the wool being too warm with their
puttees. Into the tops she knit red,
were the English colors, and into the
heel she knit an extra thread to re-
inforce it against the friction incident
to that part. She was a good knitter,
and fervent in her work. The green
prairies stole past her window and the
cool little lakes with their innumer-
able fiocks of ducks, but she never
ro he he
if by magic. why do you use wooden
needless asked. my doctor recon-
mended Them" she replied, 81 had
neuritis badly from the steel ones
pressing against my thumb. hope
she said, after long period of knit
ing, that this war will never end, I'M
til the Turks are wiped off the face
of the earth" Now, l have no par
ticular sympathy with the Sublime
Porte" but l thought of poor Tami-
nosian, who went to college with me
and fell desperately in love with my
chum, and showed other evidences of
human nature, so | said that | would
not wish to see any people whom God
had made, wiped out, no matter how
much they differed from me. Look
what they have done to the Arme-
Mans" she burst out, "but you Amer
leans, you don't care as long as you
make money. Look when England
few to the rescue of Belgium the way
you acted. You did not even make a
protest, and you didn't say one word
| while they were destroying libraries
and churches and torturing women and
children. England has to bear the
burden of saving civilization from
these savages; and they have destroy
ed things that never, never can be
replaced" and she knitted furiously
Perhaps IL Is my nature or my educa-
ton or my heredity, whatever it is,
see red when England is held up to
me as pattern of the higher virtues.
The number of things that jostled for
utterance made me dumb and gave me
moment for reflection. "Cui bono?"
Prudence alone kept me silent for,
il | spoke with the tongue of an angel,
could change that old women's point
of view, and il, by some miracle, I
could change it, would be willing to
| do SO? 1t is grievous thing to shat
ter the ideals of old people. So went
out to luncheon and left her knitting.
Later l got up courage enough to ex-
!, pose myself again, Saint Sebastian
wise, to the bitter arrows of her
tongue, but no effort on my part could
draw her out. At last, before we part
ed at Calgary, I asked her: IF
brought Turk to you trussed up neat
ly so that you would have no trouble
wiping him off the face of the earth.
what would you do?" A rare smile
lighted the earnest old face and she
replied: 81 wouldn't touch him." And
l, too, If "perf1dious Albion" stood
before me with her hands tied behind
her back, 1 wouldn't touch her, either.