The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1922-06-09
CHAPTER XVI.

to the surface now and gradually be-
came heard as the thunder of million
feet upon the training grounds. The
bugles rang sharper; the drums and
flies of town and village and country
side were the drums and flies of a
war that came closer and closer to
every hearth between the two oceans.
All the old symbols became symbols
bright and new, as if no one had ever
seen them before. America" was like a
new word, and the song America"
was like a new song. All the dusty
blatancies of Grating candidates, seek
ing to rouse bored auditors with 1.-THE
old flag; all the mechanical patriotics
of school and church and club; all
these time-worn, f1accid things leaped
suddenly into living color. The flag
became brilliant and strange to see
strange with a meaning that seemed
new, a meaning long known, yet never
known till now.
And so hearts that thought they
knew themselves came upon ambushes
of emotion and hidden indwellings of
spirit not guessed before. Dora Yo-
cum, listening to the "Star-Spangled
Banner" sung by children Of immi-
grants to an out-of-tune old piano in
a mission clubroom, in Chicago, found
herself crying with a soul-shaking
heartiness in way different from 9TH
er ways that she had cried. Among
the many things she thought, of then
was this: That the banner the chill
dren were singing about was in dam
ger The great country, almost con-
tinent, had always seemed so untouch-
able, so safe and sure; she had never
been able to conceive Of a hostile
power mighty enough to shake or even
jar it. And since so great and funda-
mental thing could not be injured,
war for it's defense had appeared to
be, in her eyes, not only wicked but
ridiculous At last. less and less
vaguely, she had come to comprehend
something of the colossal German
threat, and the shadow that touched
this bright banner of which the immi-
grants children piped so briskly in the
mission clubroom.
She began to understand, though
she could not have told just why, or
how, or at what moment understand
ing reached her. She began to under
stand that her country, threatened to
the life, had flung its line those thou
sands of miles across the sea to stand
and hold Hindenburg and Ludendorff
and all their kaisers, kings, dukes and
crown princes, their Krupp and Skoda
monstrous engines, and their mons
trous other engines of men made into
armies. Through the long haze Of
misted sea-miles and the smoke of
land-miles she perceived that brown
line of ours, and knew it stood there
that Freedom, and the Nation ITSELF
might not perish from the earth.
And so, a week later, she went home
and came nervously to Ramsey's moth
er and found how to direct the letter
she wanted to write. He was in France.
AS the old phrase went, she poured
out her heart. It seems to apply to her
letter.
She wrote:
"Don't misunderstood me. felt that
my bitter speech to you had driven you
to take the step you did. felt that l
had sent you to be killed, and that
ought to be killed for doing it, but
knew that you had other motives, too.
/ knew, of course, that you thought Of
the country more than you did of me,
or of any mad thing I could say-but
l thought that what said might have
been the prompting thing, the word
that threw you into it so hastily and
before you were ready, perhaps. I
dreaded to bear that terrible RESPONSE
bility. hope you understand.
my great mistake has been-I
thought I was so 'logical'-it's been
in my starting everything with a
thought I'd never proven: that war is
the worst thing, and all other evils
were lesser. 1 was wrong. / was
wrong, because war isn't the worst
evil Slavery is worse evil, and now
I want to tell you I have come to see
that you are making war on those that
make slavery. Yes, you are fighting
those that make both war and slavery,
and you are right, and humbly rev.
erence and honor all of you who are
in this right war. I have come home
to work In the Red Cross here; work
there all day, and all day I keep say
ing to myself-but really mean to you
its what pray, and oh, how pray
it: God be with you and grant you
the victory! For you must win and
you will win.
"Forgive me, oh, please-and If you
will, could you write to me? l know
you have things to do more important
than 'girls'-but oh, couldn't you,
| pleaseT
This letter, which she had taken
care not to dampen, as she wrote, went
in slow course to the american Ex-
peditionary Forces in France" and
finally found him whom 1t patiently
sought. He delayed not long to answer,
and in time she held in shaking hand
the pepciled missive he had sent her !:
'You forget all that comic talk about
mo enliStinp because of yOur telling