The Holly chieftain., 1917-04-06
PEACE? NE SHALL FIGHT UNTIL FRANCE IS SAFH

the front 1t IL not sll Aghting. There
are long. lonely hosrs when the rain
works. hours 0f solitude when one
sees the truth"
Madame sighed.
ut IL not oftea.s she confessed,
that ! read the touFnals. My eye
sight 10 failing. and my daughter
well. We will not speak Of her. I lost
her. Therefore It II new thing for
pe to talk to one IKE yourself. Re-
member now. II you please, that /
speak only In the language Of the VIII
lage. They say-J have heard it said
that Germany hungers for peace;
that therefore II u better for US to
give peace now and 70 spare needless
suffering"
Fsrty Years Of Preparation.
~They talk like cattle, madame" he
declared vigorously. "Where are Ger
many's conquestsi Belgium, wit, odds
against her OF ten to one in men and
fifty to one In artillery! Montenegro.
a mountain tribe! Serbia? Well, It
took them eighteen months and cost
them good many army corps to
drive the Serbians from their country,
and the end Of them Is not yet! Rou.
mania7 Victims Of foolish cam.
paign. II you will. but even then over.
powered with the war machine which
1t has taken Germany fhirty-fiv years
to- evolve. Where are her victories
against France, or Russia, or Eng.
land? Her victories, / say, when you
come to consider that for forty years
she was slowly preparing while we re-
fused to believe. Man for man. gun
for gun, we are the better race. Eng.
land Is the better race; Russia is the
better racel Therefore say to you.
madame, wait! Germany's last hour
of triumph has struck. England has
gathered strength beyond all that was
expected. France STANDS firm and un-
dismayed. ready to spring when the
hour comes. And Russla-Russia has
shown what she can do. Wait till the
mountain SHOWS have gone! Germany
has scattered her men, sacrificed them
on every battlefield, the pawns of the
game. It Is not forever she can do
this. In the end It ID the pawns who
count"
The woman's eyes were filled with
tears.
"Brave Talk, My Son."
ut Is brave talk" she cried; "brave
talk. my SOM shall speak to them
In the village Of you."
"Not of me, madame" he begged.
Look at me. I speak for what I
! represent. l am the common soldier
OF France. I am the man who bids
good morning to Death, day by day,
and will continue to do 80 until the
end comes rather than leave our be-
loved land to face the dread of mu-
tilation again."
! There was no sound Of guns here.
The train clanked across the streets
Of an old country town and drew up
| at the platform. Madame laid down
her basket and embraced the Poilu.
Son of my country" she exclaimed,
"the good God guard youl"
She kissed his cheeks and departed.
The Poilu handed down her basket
and waved his hand.
THAT 10 Why We Fight"
The mans attention had wandered.
He was gazing ecstatically out of the
window. He beckoned me to his side.
About little wood-crested slope
space had been cut. A white farm.
house stood there, and near by few
cottages, and church with quaint
tower.
my home," he pointed out with q
little catch in his throat. "You see
the hills yonder, monsieur7 It was
there that the Boches swung round. A
few more miles and might have been
homeless, wifeless-and the chill.
dren-"
He stopped and picked up his haver.
sack. His eyes were curiously bright.
"You see," he concluded, ''that is
why we fight, that Is why the word
peace today stinks in our nostrils.
We shall fight until France is SAFE"