The daily Alaskan., 1919-04-15
By
 IRVING BACHELLER
Copyright, 1917, Irving 5scheller)


 nal silence. You will understand my haste now. have sought only to do justice to my friend and to give my country a name, long neglected, but equal in glory to those of Washin gton and Lincoln.
 Come, let us take one last look to- gether down the road we have tray eled, now dim In the evening Shad- ows. Scattered along 1t are the little houses of the poor of which l have written. See the lights in the win dows-the lights that are shining into the souls of the young-the eager, open, expectant, welcoming souls Of the young-and the light carries many things, but best of all respect for the old, unchanging way of the compass. After all that Is the end and aim of the whole matter-belieye me.
 My life has heightened into these days when most of our tasks are ac- compllshed by machinery. We try to make men by the thousand, in vast educational machines, and no longer by the one as of old. It was the lov- ing. forgiving. forbearing, patient, ! ceaseless toll of mother and father on the tender soul of childhood which Quickened that inextinguishable sense of responsibility to God and man in these people whom now leave to the judgment of my COuntrymen.
 have lived to see the ancient plan of kIngcraft, for self-proteCtiOn, com ing back into the world. It demands that the will and conscience of every individual shall be regulated and con- l trolled by some conceited prince, | backed by an army. It cannot fail, l foresee, to accomplish such devasta- ton in the human spirit as shall im- peril the dearest possession of man.
 If one Is to follow the compass he ] can have but one king-his God.
 
 I am near the end. rode back to Baltimore that forenoon. They had nominated Mir. Polk of TennesSe for president and SIas Wright for vice president, the latter by exclamation. l knew that Wright would decline the honor, as he did.
 hurried northward to keep my ap- pointment with Sally. The boats were slowed by fog. At Albany was day behind my schedule. l should have only an hours leeway If the boats on the upper lakes and the stage from l Plattsburg were on time. l feared to trust them. So I caught the west bound train and reached Utica three hours late. There l bought a good horse and his saddle and bridle and hurried up the north road. When he was near spent traded him for a we'll ! knit Morgan mare up in the little Yil- lage of Sandy Creek. Oh, I knew a good horse as well as the next man and a better one than she 1 never owned-never. l was back in my sad de at six in the afternoon and stopped for feed and an hours rest at nine and rode on through the night. reached ] the hamlet of RiChville soon after day 1 break and gut out for a rest of two hours. I could take it easy then. At seven o'clock the mare and I started again, well fed and eager to go on.
 It was a summer morning that short ems the rOad-even that of the young lover. Its air was sweet with the | breath of the meadows. The daisies and the clover and the cOrnflowers and the wild roses seemed to be way Ing a welcome to me, and the thorn trees-shapely ornament of my native | hillS-were In blossom. A cloud of pigeons swept across the blue deep above my head The great choir of the fields sang to me-hObOlipks, song sparrows, meadowlarks, bluebirds, warblerS, wrens, and far away in the edge UH @ spruce thicket I heard the flute of the white-thrOated sparrow. I bathed at brook In the woods and put on a clean silk shirt and tie out of my Saddlebags I rode slowly then to the edge of the village of Can- | ton and turned at the bridge and took the river road, although had time to spare. How my heart was beating as I neared the familiar scenel The river slowed its pace there, like dis- cerning traveller, to enjoy the beauty Of its shores. Smooth and silent was the water and In it were the blue of the sky and the feathery shadOw-SpIrps of cedar and tamarack and the reflect ed blossoms of iris and meadow rue. It was lovely scene.
 There was the pine, but where was my lady? l diSmOunted and tied ny mare and looked at my watch. It lacked twenty minutes to eleven. She would cOme-I had no doubt of 1t. l washed my hands and face and neck in the cool water. Suddenly heard voice I knew singing: Barney Leave the Girls Alone" l turned and saw-your mother, my son. (These last lines were dictated to his sOn.) She was in the stern of birch canoe, all dressed in white with roses in her hair. raised my hat and she threw