Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-04-28
1HE President of the United
States was speaking. His audi
ence comprised 1000 foreign

ence comprised 1000 foreign
born men who had just beer
admitted to citizenship. They listened
intently, their faces aglow with the
light of a newborn patriotism. up.
turned to the calm. intellectual face
of the first citizen of the country they
now claimed as their own.
Here and there among the newly
made citizens were wives and children
The women were proud Of their men
They looked at them from time to time
their faces showing pride and awe.
One little woman. sitting Immediately
in front of the President. held the hand
of big, muscular man and stroked it
softly. The big man was looking at
the speaker with great blue eyes that
were the eyes of a dreamer.
The Presidents words came clear and
distinct:
You were drawn across the ocean by
some reckoning finger of hope, by
kind of justice. by some expectation Of
a better kind of life. You dreamed
dreams of this country. and I hope you
brought the dreams with you, A man
enriches the country to which he brings
dreams, and you who have brought
them have enriched America"
The big man made curious choking
noise and his wife breathed a soft
affected
The President continued:
No doubt you have been disappointed
in some of us. but remember this, II we
have grown at all loor in the ideal you
brought some of it with you. A man
does not go out to seek the thing that
Is not in him. A man does not hope
for the thing that he does not believe
In Of fay
what America believed in, you at any
rate imported in your own hearts q re-
newal of the belief. Each of you, I am
sure. brought a drean. glorious. shin
gold or silver, and that is the reason
that I. for one, make you welcome"
The big mans eyes were fixed. His wife
shook him gently. but he did not heed
her. He was looking through the pres
idential rostrum. through the big build
ings behind it, looking out over leagues
of space to a snow-swept village that
hudd1ed on an island in the Beresina,
the swift-fowing tributary of the
mighty Dnieper. an island that looked
like black hone stuck tight in the
NAV of tire stream.
1t was in the little village on the Bere-
siHa that the dream came to Ivan Ber-
loft. Big Ivan of the Bridge.
The dream came in the spring. All
great dreams come in the spring. and
the spring maiden who brought Big
beautiful She swept up the Beresina.
trailing wondrous draperics cfs vivid
green. Her feet touched the snow
white and blue flowers sprang up in her
footsteps. Soft breezes escorted her.
velvety breezes that carried the aromas
Of the far-off places from which they
came. places far to the southwark. like
Kremenchug and Kerch, and moro
distant towns beyond the Black sea
whose people were not under the SWAY
Of the great car.
fought under Prince Menshikov at Alms
hfty-five years before. nobbled ont TO
see the sunbeams eat up the snow hum
mocks that hid in the shady places.
and he told his son it was the most
wonderful spring he had ever seen.
THE little breezes are hot and sweet"
he said. shifting hungrily with his face
turned toward the south. 81 know
them. Ivan, 1 know them, They have
the spice odor that ! shifted on the
winds that came to us when we lay in
the trenches at Balaklava. Praise God
for the warmth
And that day the dream came to Big
ivan as he plowed. 1t was a wonder
dream. 1t sprang into his brain as no
walked behind the pillow. and for few
minutes he quivered. as the big bridge
Quivers when the Beresina sends her
ice squadrons to hammer the arches. 1t
made his heart pound nightly. and his
lips and throat became very dry.
; Big Ivan stopped at the end Of the
furrow and tried to discover what had
brought the dream. Where had 1t come
from? Why had it clutched him 80 sud
denly? Was he the only man In the
village to whom 1t had come?
Like his father, he shifted the sweet
smelling breezes. He thrust his great
hands into the sunbeams. He reached
down and plucked one Of a bunch of
white flowers that had sprung up over
night. The dream was born of the
breezes and the sunshine and the spring
flowers. 1t came from them. and 1t had
sprung into his mind because he was
young and strong. He knew. 1t
couldn't come to his father or Donkov.
the tailor. or Poborino. the smith. They
were old and weak. and Ivan's dream
was one that called for youth and
strength.
"Ay, the youth and strength" he NUT
tered. as he gripped the plow. And 1
have itr'
That evening Big Ivan of the Bridge
spoke to his wife, Anna, a little wom-
an. who had a sweet face and a wealth
OF fair hair.