The weekly Alaska citizen., 1918-04-08
Dust Off That Little Tin Soldier.

The little boy did very well; ne learned a lot, but he had no thrills. He did not know the breathless joys of mounting hobby horse and way ing sword therefrom in a repro duction of the glorious ride of the Six Hundred.
 Never Took
 of Hat When Flag Went By. | And he grew up that way, and he never knew his country nor took | off his hat when the flag went by nor stood up when the orchestra played "The Star Spangled Banner" The little toy soldier struggled no more against the rust that was eating out his heart; the scalding tears only made the red on his breast crumble the faster
 Then one day band went down the street and the clank of muskets echoed so loudly that even he in the closet heard and strengthened to at tention. His head went up and the battle light came into his painted eyes.
 War. war. war!" was singing in his head. "A great war, just war. a righteous war, thank God" went humming and throbbing in refrain through his hollow head. Oh, yes. his head was hollow. and what could a tin soldier know of God or right eousness? What, indeed! Let onl! those who dare to differ from the | toy soldiers opinion make answer. And there was a great running in the house and a great noise afar | off which caused the tin man to spread his nostrils and tighten his 1 lips.
 The door of the closet opened and a big man in shoulder straps and a deep-bosomed woman with clear gray eyes took him out into the light. They smiled little sadly because he was so old and rusted and because his uniform was not at all like that the big man wore. But the big man caressed him and, turning, kicked the fads and fancy toys into corner. He swept the psychological puzzles into a heap and stood looking down at the tow-head I oJ how bn uonInr. ingly. Outside in the street the bugles were calling and bass voices were answering Here"
 Puts the Busted
 Soldier in the Lads Hand.
 Opposite the nursery window the flag was cracking impatiently in the wind throwing itself upward in beautiful curve as though it were something alive and proud. i The big man in the shoulder straps lifted the little boy to the window sin, where he could see the soldiers marshaling in the square and where the banners joyous Tapping came Ike song.
 He put the rusted toy soldier in the little boys hand and the child's companion. Here was something, in deed. He seizcs the tin man and clutcbed him tight, his eyes danc- ing, his baby soul thrilling to the same message that made the big man jingle when he thought of his country. Never would they be sepa- rated now, the little boy avowed. The tin warrior would share his pillow, his farthest rambling. his oat- meal in the morning
 Tomorrow
 Brand-New Toy Fighter.
 And the little toy soldier, although he was folded upside down against the baby's heart, and although he knew that the baby fist was cracking his rusted bones until he would sure ly go to the cellar tomorrow. was very happy. Tomorrow brand new soldier with new paint and every thing would take his place, but still he was happy. The dust of paci ism and the rust of cowardce were off him at last
 War, war, war!" he kept singing to himself. "A great war, a just war, a righteous war, thank God"