The review. [volume] (High Point, N.C.) 1908-19??, 1918-05-02
Meditation and Visions of
the Night
"a DREAM)
written for The Review

be, the principal thoroughfare of the
city. In fact they were jammed to
gether like peas in a pod-not men.
not women-but just people And
they were marching, marching,
Emarching with a firm and steady
7 step. The click of hobnail and, seem
ingly, the tread of steel-shod feet on
dagstone pavement could be dis
tinctly heard. No other sound was
audible save an occasional deep
breathing akin to sign. No one
spoke. No one cast a glance toright
or left or dared a look behind. Pur-
pose and determination was stamped
on every face, and every person car
ried. attached to a tall flagstaff, some
kind of emblem, but the emblems
we're of many kinds and forms,
Some were of bronze and some were
of pure gold. Their significance were
a mystery to me except one, the
fleur-de-lis, a number of which were
hoisted among the many others.
I aWoke, scared. For several days
after my dream worried me not a
little, but | attached no importance
to it till July z8 and after heard
the news flashed round the world"
Of not few but many nations de
claring an ultimatum. Then l told
myself, Watch. Some transaction
or something Of importance will be
connected with this war and France"
believe every man of battle car.
ries somebody's heart and hopes
with him-the hopes and heart of a
mother, of wife or the girl l left
behind. There is a saying that
home is where the heart is. If it be
true IWonder how many homes are
in Europe today, how many are be-
ing added every day. I wonder how
many homes have been buried in
Europe, how many hopes have been
blighted and swept away like chaff
In a .whirlwind. When I think of the
rivers of blood that the soil of Eu-
rope has consumed / feel that my
heart and your heart lie buried "over
there" But our Lrief, God, if it too
were buried
While doing a little and seeing
others doing so much Red Cross
work, I have become almost a
doubter and sometimes feel that the
mail prints" will have to be shown
to me before | can regain perfect
sanity | know too that there are
others who have nibbling at the
margin of their hearts this same
feeling and will ask themselves the
same questions | have asked.
Why do innocent children have
to suffer such hideousness, pure wo-
men made to submit to defilement,
nnn-combatants prosecuted and ex-
ecuted, captured soldiers, but why
should some suffer so much while
others suffer so little when they
carry passport addressed to the
same destination?
After all the money you have
given, cheerfully, to be sure-it
wasn't doing you any good any way
and the knitting and the sewing
on garments, every stitch a hope,
when you have news your boy (it
may be husband, brother, sweetheart
or son, it's your boy all the same)
is prisoner of the enemy, has ears
and nose sliced off, eyes jabbed out,
or is being slowly starved to death.
You see it goes home when it's my
boy" and it's quite hard not to let
the worst thoughts in the world mas
ter you. It's almost enough to make
one think that after all, the human
race is just a bunch OF heartless,
soulless creatures swept away with
out a staying hand like flies in a
storm and are mo more.
But this week, April 18Th, comes
another dream giving hope far
reaching.
The nations at war are staged in
their respective positions on one
vast battlefield. In trenches, out of
trenches, everywhere the eye pen;
etrates are soldiers prepared or pre-
pairing for a great battle. one of the
greatest yet, fierce and terrible. Of
ficers are busy giving commands,
men are ready, almost, with out
stretched right arm some are ready
to give the signal Systematically for
starting, Others are ready to play
their part, almost, now, but stay.
Every nerve is taut. / wonder who
it is they are preparing battle
against, and what for. A man, no,
not man but a beast in the form
of man is going about in their
midst, the leader OF an army. High
er from his shoulders up than the
crowd, broad, strong, outstanding
SineWS, cOuntenarce fierce. Com.