GOING TO VISIT THE PRESIDENT.
She shook her head. “You never saw him surely—my beautiful little brother Laurens Cornwallis. He died seven years ago this Fourth of July—Papa and Ralph and Dr. Muelenberg found him lying alone in the woods on the river bank, all torn and mangled with fireworks. It was a dreadful sight and an awful mystery! but probably you never heard of it.”
“I was abroad then but it strikes me that I read of some such accident. Probably an outline of it and that there was something wrong about it; but I want to hear more. I want to hear all about the wrong things that have been, or are being done in this town. My belief is that private wrongs are too often hushed up. They ought to be talked about in the open, as a rule, and even where they are of a private nature they should be talked of in the right way and to the right persons.”
Thus encouraged, Ruth told more fully than she had ever done before, the effect of her brother’s death on herself—of the visions she had when the brain fever was at its height—of the colossal shadow of Millionaire Schwarmer looming into the sky scattering implements of death and destruction everywhere—of the white-winged figure of her brother flying along with the upward look, toward a pit of writhing, fiery, serpents—how she fanciedthat she ran after him and really did call and call for him to come back; and how Ralph came instead and made her think he was Laurens and the delusion saved her.
“And so you have married your delusion. Bless your heart, you have done just right,” laughed the President, but there was a suspicion of tears in his eyes and Ruth went on:
“I was only eleven years old then. My brain was saved, but I was a physical wreck. Year after year for seven years papa and mamma took me to Canada to save me from the horror of our National Day! Only think of that. Flying away from it and trying to hide my fears of it. You are right about ‘speaking out.’ I think now if I had been encouraged to speak of it freely and do something to remedy it, I need not to have gone away, at least, so many times; but poor mamma and papa! They were so broken down they couldn’t bear to talk about it—papa especially; but I know now that it would have been better for him if he had. His hair was a beautiful brown when little Laurens died, but now it’s as white as snow! And there are others that ought to speak out plainly. There have been a great many accidents here since Mr. Schwarmer’s advent. None of them have been quite so bad and mysterious as my little brother’s, but they have been too bad to pass by and have been increasing every year. Ralph will show you that it is so.”
After the statistics were read and commented upon, Ruth broke out: “It’s coming again. It’s almost here. We know dreadful things will happen if we don’t watch and watch and do everything we can to prevent them and stir everybody up to do the same. You can help us, I know you can.”
“Bless your heart! That’s just what I’m here for, to help everybody. I can help you stir up the people. I will call a mass meeting for this very evening, and you and your delusion will be there in the front row—and the curtains will all be torn away from this beastly Fourth of July business. He will read the figures and you will tell your story and encourage every hurt soul to do likewise. This is what I believe in. What I don’t believe in, isforcingpeople to do things. But Idobelieve in warming them up to do right things. I don’t believe in masterings, bossings, tie-ups or hold-ups; but I do believe in explainings, urgings and entreatings.”
“The Rev. Dr. Normander tried the gentler method with Schwarmer at the time of Lauren’s death,” said Ralph, “and he declared that Independence Day was a sacred day and that he had as good a right to distribute free fireworks on that day as a minister had to distribute free religious tracts on the Lord’s Day, or words to that effect.”
“O the idiot!” exclaimed the President. “I wouldnotpunch his head and make more of an idiot of him; but if I could get my eye on his freefireworks I would destroy them as I would a nest of rattlesnakes. I would let him see that I know the difference between good and evil—between God and the devil, by an illustrative example.”
A PUBLIC MEETING—STATISTICS AND RESOLUTIONS.
Earlyin the afternoon there was a big poster on the Town Hall, with a proclamation, or rather, invitation from the President, asking “the citizens one and all, without distinction of sex, race or color to assemble together in order to discuss plans for the saving of life, limb and property during the forthcoming celebration of the Nation’s birthday.”
They came—old men and young men, women and girls. The hall was packed with an expectant crowd. The President opened the meeting by saying:
“Dear Friends and Townsmen:
“I did not invite you here to listen to a speech. I don’t believe in cornerings of any kind and surely not in cornering anybody and talking him to death. I invited you expecting you would talk to me and each other. I am a new man in civic affairs; but I don’t want to stay new. I want toget at the heart of the interests of this town. I did not come among you to make millions. Like my brother mayor over in Ohio, I should not know what to do with a million of money; but unlike him I am not afraid I shall ever be a millionaire (applause). But I begin to fear that I have neglected my civic duties. You know I was averse to having the yoke of office put upon me. Now I thank you for your kindly insistance. I have had proof this very day that the yoke is good for me and may prove to be good for the people of the town also (cries of ‘why’ and ‘how’).
“Before I tell you why or how I want to give thanks right here before you all to one who is not here—one who has crossed over—my dear Quaker mother, who taught me the Golden Rule and how to apply it. I loved that rule, but I hesitated about putting it up in the office, just as my brother mayor hesitated about putting it up in his manufacturing establishment. I had very much the same feeling about it, but I conquered it, thank God! It resulted in this meeting (cries of ‘hear!’ ‘hear!’)
“Yes, you shall hear. I don’t believe in keeping matters of this kind veiled. Early this morning a young woman came to my office. She brought no axe to grind but she brought what was infinitely better, a heart full of love and solicitude for the youth of this town. Years ago her little brother had fallen a victim to a terrible and mysterious Fourth of July accident, and she wanted to dosomething to save others from a like fate. She thought that if I believed in the Golden Rule I would help. God bless her.” (Cries of “God bless her!” “God bless her!”)
The President wiped his eyes and continued: “Yes, God bless her! She brought no axe to grind but she brought her husband with statistics to prove that this town has more Independence Day accidents than any town of its size in the state.” (Cries of “shame on the town.”)
“Yes, shame on the town and every individual of the town—especially those who profess to represent it. I am ashamed of myself—mortally ashamed that I have let such a monster grow and fatten right under my nose, without doing a thing to prevent it. I don’t know how the rest of you will feel about it, but I feel that I have very little excuse for my stupidity in this regard; for the same mother that taught me the Golden Rule also taught me that war and its instruments and all its vain-glorious celebrations such as our Independence Day has grown to be, are wrong and that we should lose no opportunity of speaking and acting against them.
“She taught me all that and I accepted it or thought I did. I proclaimed myself to be a man of peace, an enemy to cannons, battle-ships, swords, guns, pistols and all the implements made for the killing of men; while I have had nothing to say against the little murderous, viperousimplements that are put into the hands of innocent and ignorant boys.” (Cries of “hear!” “We are all in the same boat!”)
“Then let us get out of the boat and go to work in earnest to destroy the evil, root and branch. There is nothing more sure than that this Fourth of July slaughter is a branch of war—a terribly crooked branch and a poison one—one that can be easily made to grow into another deadly Upas tree. We have all heard of that exasperating old Upas the very fibre of which if woven into a garment produces a constant itching to the wearer. The same thing happens to the small boy who indulges in Independence Day customs too freely. He gets an itching for war and brutal sports. Ralph Norwood will now give you the statistics of our annual Independence Day slaughter for the last ten years, which will show you, I trust, into what a fatal fetichism we are rapidly descending.”
Ralph came forward with an immense roll which he accidentally let slip. As it trailed on the stage there were whispers of excitement from all parts of the house, such as “See.” “See.” One rough fellow blurted out:
“That’s all right, Norwood, let’s have it sled length.”
“The first accident on his record was at the laying of the Corner Stone of the Schwarmer mansion. He explained that he had begun therebecause the disasters that had occurred previous to that date had not been noticeably large. On that eventful day Mr. Schwarmer had come from the city and brought a carload of fireworks, cannon included. His hostler was killed while firing off the cannon. There were several minor accidents the same day. But little account was made of them in face of the greater accident. I believe one of the boys who had his fingers shot off is in the hall now. If so will he kindly raise up his maimed hand in proof of the statement?”
The hand was raised and sighs of pity were heard from various parts of the house.
“The next year the worst accident was caused by a boy who threw a bunch of firecrackers at a horse. It ran away throwing out a mother and child. The child was killed and the mother’s back almost broken. She lingered until the next Fourth and died in a paroxysm of fear, piteously begging to have the terrible fireworks stopped. I see that Dr. Muelenberg is here. We would like to hear his testimony.”
The doctor arose promptly and confirmed Ralph’s statement. He also said “that in his opinion there should be no temporizing with this matter. Everybody knew that explosives were dangerous, especially those that were gotten up on purpose to explode and that they should never be put into the hands of the young or ignorant or evil disposed.” He added sarcastically:
“There is no need of appointing a lumbering committee to go around the world and investigate the injurious effect of powder and dynamite on the human system. It is well known that a very small quantity of either is sufficient to put a boy’s eye out, tear off his fingers or produce one of the most horrible diseases, lockjaw—a disease which boasted antitoxin fails to cure in nine cases out of ten. I don’t see how any man in his right senses would dare to put such explosives into a young boy’s hands. Surely such a man must be afflicted with what the Germans call ‘Precocious Imbecility.’ Permitting boys to kill themselves and each other is almost worse than they do in Germany. Boys there are carefully protected until they are old enough to serve some purpose or to be killed in the service of the King, while the American small boy has almost no protection and does not seem to be reared for any purpose unless it is to be killed in the service of the King of Commerce. I speak advisedly for I perceive that he is already being caught in the net-work of at least two great business interests—those of Pyrotechnics and Antitoxin, to say nothing of the lesser interests of hospital nurses and doctors. What will come next to entangle him and hold him there it were vain to forecast. As to the doctors I am one of them, and ought to know what I am talking about. I know it’s money in my pocket to have the beastly thing go on; but I hope youwill believe me when I say that I don’t want it to go on.” (Cries of “Yes!” “Yes.”)
“I came to this country straight from the German University, with high hopes, but I have had to let them down fully half way. Not quite down to the lethargic German level but lower down than I could possibly have imagined: for what do I see, in this new-born land? A nation of freemen, courting self-destruction! Arming their ignorant young boys and hardened criminals against themselves! What do I see the next day and the next after the glorious Independence Day of which I heard so much in my own country? I see the dead, the mutilated, the dying, the weeping mothers and trembling sisters! I landed in New York the last days of beautiful June eager to grasp my brother practitioners by the hand and help them to make this people as strong and healthy as they were prosperous and free. Butwhatdid I hear in this free land? A voice from the high seat of a great City Government saying: ‘Prepare the way! Prepare the way! (Not for the “Prince of Light”) but for the prince of darkness, death, din and disorder! Stand by with lint, bandages and antitoxin! Have an ambulance within call; for the prince that rules this day is sure to leave hosts of wounded and dying in his track.’ When I stood still and asked why they allowed this thing to be, they looked fierce at me and warned me to take lessons in American patriotism. Certainly‘precocious imbecility’ must be at the bottom of this whole business.”
Dr. Muelenberg sat down amidst a storm of applause and Ralph continued:
“The next year a terrible accident occurred and a very mysterious one. A beautiful boy of eight years was brought home with his clothes burned off and his face scarred and torn beyond recognition. Nobody ever knew to a certainty where he got the supply of fireworks which caused his death. His parents certainly did not give them to him. The father is in the house now and will no doubt tell you so if you should desire to know.”
Cries of “yes, yes, yes, let the father speak!” were heard on all sides.
Mr. Cornwallis turned pale and hesitated.
“O! do speak father,” whispered Ruth, who was sitting by his side in the front row. “If you don’tI must, but I had ratheryouwould speak. I know it would do you good. Tell them just how you feel about it. You may be the means of saving some other boy’s life.”
Ralph waited serenely. He knew well enough what Ruth was saying, although he could not hear her; for they had talked the matter over and she had promised to be as near as possible, to spirit him on and urge her father to speak instead of speaking herself.
He was so elated with the consciousness of the one presence that he hardly realized that her fatherwas on his feet until his agonized voice rang out:
“Yes, it is as Mr. Norwood has said. My boy was brought home unrecognizable beyond any words of mine to describe—as though all the agencies of hell had been employed to hurt and disfigure his little body. His once fair face was so gored with powder and blotched with colored fires, that not a vestige of likeness remained.”
Mr. Cornwallis paused and closed his eyes. The room was deathly still—as still as though the audience had been actually looking at little Laurens’ mutilated face. His wife clasped his hand and Ruth whispered: “Have courage, Father! Have courage!”
Then he went on more calmly than before:
“We never knew where he got the fireworks. They must have been given to him; nor does it seem possible that one person could have given him all that he appeared to have had. Mr. Schwarmer distributed fireworks very freely that day but he insisted that he did not give any to Laurens and not enough to any one boy to injure himself with. My idea is that some one who was assisting Schwarmer in his distributions, must have given him some of the colored pieces intended for evening display; and that he was seized upon, or induced by other boys to go into the woods and stack them together, in order to have a big explosion, and that he was the victim of that explosion. Facts andcircumstances have since come to light which have confirmed this belief. Schwarmer brought a lad with him from the city to help him celebrate. There were a great many strange boys in town. They came from the surrounding country, walking in on the railroad tracks or rowed down the river in rickety boats. There was a rumor that one boat load of boys went over the falls and were drowned. Be that as it may, there were undoubtedly a large number of rough characters attracted to this place by Mr. Schwarmer’s free distribution of fireworks, and by the alluring advertisements that appeared in all the country newspapers hereabouts, with regard to it.”
Mr. Cornwallis paused again, and again there was silence—the silence of expectancy. He went on:
“I have only one word more to say. The Lord help me to say it. I charge no man with the death of my son, still I believe we are all more or less to blame. We are surely to blame for allowing our National Day to be turned into a fiery Moloch for the sacrifice of the youth of our land. I see it as plain now as though it were written in letters of fire; and I ought to have seen it before. I ought to have been doing something to guard our little ones from this dreadful monster all these years while I have been mourning for my boy; but the misery was so great, the mystery so incomprehensible that I could not bear to think of it. It seemedas though I should go crazy. Besides I had great fears for my wife and still greater for my daughter. But all that has passed by, thank God, and I am ready now to join you in the good cause.”
He sat down amidst cries of “Amen” and “Amen!”
Ruth leaned back in her seat and looked at Ralph radiantly. He continued his statistics:
“The next year two boys died of lockjaw, caused by the blank cartridges known to have been given them by Mr. Schwarmer. Several others lost fingers and eyes. If there are any of the latter present will they please make it manifest?”
Three young men rose to their feet. One was totally blind and the others partially.
Every eye in the hall was turned toward them and expressions of sympathy were heard from all sides. These object lessons had a good effect, but there was no time for more and Ralph hurried on with the statistics, confident that no more were needed. The list being completed, then came the question—Why was it that this town of Killsbury contributed the largest quota to the Fourth of July death roll of any town in the state? He sat down amidst cries of “why” and “shame on the town.”
“Yes, shame on the town,” said a man rising promptly in his seat; “and shame on Mr. Schwarmer. I think we all know that he is responsible for the surplus of accidents in this town. That it is directly due to his distribution of free fireworksamong the ignorant and irresponsible classes; for I happen to know that he doesn’t always draw the line at the small boy. I saw him on one occasion throw boxes and boxes of firecrackers and cartridges among a crowd that had collected around, just as kings do money, and then stop and laugh to see the scrabbling after them.
“Still I suppose we ought to go slow in the matter of fixing the blame on Mr. Schwarmer—a valuable man and one who is supposed to have done or is expected to do so much for the town though I can’t just tell what he has done—can’t give the statistics, not having lived here always, as friend Pollock who sits by my side has. Perhaps he can tell you.”
“I’ll be plagued if I can think of a plaguy thing he’s done for this town,” said Pollock testily. “The fact is, he was born on the Town and our fathers fed him and clothed him and gave him a good send-off as soon as they saw that he had spunk enough in him to go. After he turned up in the Stock Exchange, he paid them off by tom-fooling their sons and taking every spare dollar from them to gamble with and lose for them and finally win back again into his own pocket. I knowthatwell enough for I knew one of the tomfools. There were lots and lots of others, but they never told how they got sucked in. It leaked out little by little though and more than one spoke out plainly before they died; but it seems as though we were determined tobe blind, deaf and dumb in the matter and all because he coddled us boys—giving us—what? Things to kill and disfigure ourselves with. You see this crippled hand, don’t you?” he added, holding up his right hand, which had three stiff fingers. “Well I am indebted tohimfor that and I’ve cursed him for it many a time in secret, but I’ve never been honest enough to out with it ’til now. That’s all he’s ever done for me. I can’t say as to the carpenters that built his house. I never heard that any of them got rich out of his carpentering though he built a big house for himself, then a big stable for his horses, and then an addition to the stable for more horses. All he’s ever done for the town is to make a big show up on the hill, with his sky-scraper and sky rockets. He has never benefited the people except with the kind of benefit that a cat may get by looking at a king.”
“That’s about it,” said a man in the back end of the hall, addressing his remarks to those immediately about him. “There was a time when the boys could go a fishing in the river and get a nice mess of Bull-heads for Fourth of July dinner. But now he owns the river and all that’s in it. He had Ben Hawley arrested last Fourth for fishing inhisriver. Humph! It won’t be long before he will own us as well as the river. He thinks he has more right to us now than the Lord Almighty.”
“Keoo!” shouted an overgrown lad. “The riveris his and all that’s in it. Let’s dump some more of his traps in the river. I’ll help, by gar, I will!” At that moment Father Ferrill came in and took the noisy boy in charge.
APPEAL INSTEAD OF PROHIBITION.
Thematter of responsibility for the increase or rather surplus of Independence Day accidents in the town of Killsbury, being settled the question was, what should be done about it?
Alderman Spofford proposed that “a paper—a smooth kind of paper such as Lawyer Rattlinger could write should be gotten up and sent to Mr. Schwarmer asking him to desist from distributing fireworks among the boys of the town. He said he would like to hear Rattlinger’s views on the subject.”
“As I understand it,” replied Rattlinger, “the main object of this meeting is to save our town from this year’s slaughter—a slaughter that will surely take place if free fireworks are distributed here as usual. The day is at hand. The peril is imminent. The question is what would we do if we had word that the king of Spain had sent arms and munitions of war to this place and that he would be here to-morrow to distribute them or arm the irresponsible classes?”
“We would say he was the devil in disguise and we would have none of his works,” said a white-haired man rising slowly in his seat. It was Philip Daycoy, the oldest man in town. He had the reputation of being one of the thirteen men who (painted and disguised as Indians) boarded the steamer, Sir Robert Peel; and yelling their war cry—“Remember the Caroline,” put the passengers to flight, plundered it and sent it ablaze down the river.
“My proposition is that we do just about as our forefathers and the Emperor of China did with the tea and opium that England tried to force upon them.”
There was a round of applause from the crowd that had gathered in the back part of the hall and cries of “how! how! Tell us just how, Patriot Daycoy, and by gorra, we’ll do it!”
Was the brutal instinct being stirred up? Philip Daycoy, who was sitting by the Reverend Dr. Normander, looked at him appealingly. Many a year had elapsed since he had thought of himself as a patriot or of the burning of the Sir Robert Peel as a truly patriotic transaction.
“Help me out, for God’s sake, Doctor. I don’t like that brutal howling back there. There must be awayand a rightwayto do this thing—a way to do it without using muskets and bayonets and setting the cars on fire.”
The reverend gentleman arose quickly andstretched out his arms as though to still a rising tempest.
“Our aged brother Daycoy has authorized me to answer the question for him. I know perfectly well how he feels about matters of this kind. He doesn’t feel exactly as he did when he was young and inexperienced. He was only 18 years old when he boarded the English steamer, with his revengeful cry. He has learned a better and higher wisdom since then. He wants the right thing done every time. He believes in extreme measures in extreme cases but he does not believe in savage measures. That is, he does not propose that we should disguise ourselves as Indians, arm ourselves with muskets and bayonets and seize the patriotic stuff which Lawyer Rattlinger has likened very aptly to arms and munitions of war. To dress like a savage and use the war implements of the civilized man would be making a composite of the worst features of both. He simply means that we must act promptly and with sufficient energy to avert the horrible annual slaughter so near at hand. I am with him in heart and soul. I believe the shortest way would be the surest way and I, like the President, would take it if possible; and I believe we all would. For instance, if by some miraculous event, there should be a load of these dangerous explosives standing in the street as we go out of this hall I believe we would seize upon them with divine accord and proceed to throw them in the river orput them where they could never harm any one. But as nothing so miraculous is likely to occur I propose the next shortest way—that is that the common council take the matter in hand and act promptly and to the full limit of its power. My impression is that the City Fathers have a reserve of power vested in them for such emergencies, and my belief is that the great trouble with those in authority everywhere is that they fail to use the authority when it is needed the most. If I am wrong on these points I hope Lawyer Rattlinger will correct me.”
“You are right in the main,” replied Rattlinger. “The City Fathers have a reserve of power for just such cases and now is the time for the people to call on them to use the reserve. It is needed now, every inch of it; and the whole moral force of the people back of it. Begging the reverend gentleman’s pardon, I think generally that the great trouble with the people is that they do not come out as strongly as they should and make their grievances known.”
“That’s as true as Gospel, Mr. Rattlinger—at least as far as I am concerned; and I wish, as a representative of the moral force (supposedly so) to confess right here, that I have not done my whole duty with regard to our Independence Day peril; for while I have lost no opportunity of warning my church people against it, I feel that I have done very little outside of the church andought to repent, not exactly in sack-cloth and ashes, but by doing double duty hereafter—working outside of the church as well as in it. I therefore propose that a notice be drafted prohibiting the selling or giving away of any kind of explosives to any person within the corporation and that said notice be printed and posted up early tomorrow morning in all of the most conspicuous places. I don’t know as to the legal efficiency of such a notice in suppressing the nuisance at once, but I think it would help very greatly. Am I right, Mr. President.”
“In view of the shortness of time and more especially of the ease with which prohibitory laws are evaded,” replied the President, “I propose that instead of a prohibitory notice there be a short but stirring appeal to the people, one and all, to refrain from buying, selling, using or giving away any of the iniquitous Fourth of July implements. According to the doctrine of love and trust that I have been taught, a good strong appeal is far ahead of prohibition. Prohibition savors of tyranny and kingliness. It is American bossism. It is squarely against human nature. Tell a child he shan’t do a thing and impose a heavy penalty, and he is sure to do it, if possible. It’s the same with children of a larger growth and more especially so with the makers of millions. They care nothing for fines and even imprisonment is being made delightful for them; but they have a lot of human nature inthem and they can be ruled by love as well as the rest of humanity.
“As to Millionaire Schwarmer we should love him for the good hemight do, and probablywoulddo, had he been brought up and educated in an Ideal Town and under an Ideal Government. We should lovehimand hate hisfireworksand rid ourselves of them as soon as we can get hold of the infamous things. I see that Editor Parnell is present. I think he could get up the right kind of an appeal—an appeal that would be so truly loving that it would reach every heart and yet be as urgent as it possibly can be without antagonizing the will. We would like to hear from him at all events.”
The editor replied “that he did not come to express his own opinions but to report and publish the opinions of others, but he would say that he thought the President’s idea of an appeal in place of prohibition was an excellent one; and since he had given such a luminous idea of it, he was willing to undertake it and would make it as urgent as possible without distancing the party for whom it was chiefly intended.”
He also begged leave to say “that although he was not quite up to Thoreau’s idea of Civic disobedience, still he believed it necessary at times to act quite contrary to government rules, or at least give the governing powers a few instructions in civic procedure. As the matter now stands we have two national days on our hands that havebecome public nuisances to say the least. The one is Independence Day and the other is Decoration Day. In my opinion they should be reformed, abolished or merged into Thanksgiving Day and re-baptised.
“But as this meeting under Golden Rule leading has added a sort of civic confessional department, I am obliged to confess, like my aged brother, Daycoy, that I did not feel that way when I was eighteen or thereabouts, which leads me to suggest an educational department, or a return to the old-fashioned Town meeting which contained the bud of the ‘referendum’ that has borne such good fruit in far away Oregon and Switzerland.”
The editor sat down amidst cheers, laughter and cries of “Draft the appeal, Parnell.” “Make it urgent.”
The appeal was drafted, read, approved and handed back to the editor for printing and posting. Then the President made the closing speech in which he said:
“I believe we have done all that it is expedient to do at this time in this direction. But we can work in a great many other directions—just as many as there are persons in this hall. Everybody can do something individually toward preventing Fourth of July accidents. As to Schwarmer I hope the honest scoring he has had at this meeting will make a new man of him. It may have been a little toohard, but formerly it was surely toosoft. Infact it is difficult to treat a millionaire exactly right.
“We incline to think that because a man is worth millions, he must have every other good quality. This is absurd. He lives in the same world that we live in, and if he does not live in a glass house, hedoeslive in a house with large plate glass windows in it, and is exposed to the same surveillance and temptations. He has the same need of honest treatment. He is drawn by the same chords of love and sympathy.
“As to the children, I believe that one of the greatest obstacles in the way of this reform is the inclination of the older people to shut their eyes to the doings of the youngsters on this day. This will not do, my friends. It is not until we have taught them the higher lessons of love and right action for every day of the year, that we can hope to accomplish a pure and permanent reform. Like Brother Parnell I believe in the old-fashioned educative Town meeting, but I would not have it too old-fashioned. The city mothers as well as fathers should be in it, just as they are here tonight.”
The meeting closed with the doxology. Father Ferrill and the Reverend Dr. Normander went out arm in arm—and the miraculous happened! The overgrown boy who shouted “Keeo! Let’s dump ’em in the river,” was sitting in his express wagon under the strong light of the street lamp. As soon as he saw the clergymen, he called out:
“A miracle, Father Ferrill! Explosives unguarded, Dr. Normander! Shortest way out of Fourth of July racket! I would like to know the sense of this meeting. Will it have sense enough to order me to drive on to the river? I’d like to drive on. Will the folks surround me? I’d like to be surrounded. Will they help me dump this patriotic stuff into the river? I’d like to be helped.”
Father Ferrill went to the lad and spoke to him in a low tone of voice, after which he rose up in his seat. The lamp flared full in his face. He raised his eyes and made the sign of the cross.
“This is the sign that his words are true,” said Father Ferrill turning to the crowd. “It would seem that miraculous things do happen even in these sinful days. The logic of it is this (You see I understand that the real Yankee always wants a reason for everything): When a very important matter agitates the community, no knowing where the wave will end or what it will bring back to us. It is then that a miracle happens. Dr. Normander wished for a miracle and something very like it has happened. The history of it is this: This lad through whom the so-called miracle has come, was the foster child of Captain Dan Solomon, who was killed several years ago by the bursting of a cannon on Schwarmer Hill. He has always thought that Schwarmer was to blame for that accident. He had an order from him this afternoon to deliver the Fourth of July goods at his mansion on theHill. He stopped in to this meeting on his way to the train. When Dr. Normander expressed a desire to get his eye on those explosives he hastened out. Now he is here with the atrocious things and has given me the bill to read for your enlightenment:
Express Agents please handle with care.
J. E. Schwarmer.”
“Yes! yes! We’ll handle them with care—on to the river!” shouted a chorus of voices.
“Where’s the President?” asked Father Ferrill.
“Inside with the aldermen;” cried Ralph, “but we need not wait for him. We will go on at once. He will approve. He believes in the people. He sings a song about them. Come on Dick Solomon! Come on everybody! I will sing his song for you while we go.” He burst forth in a beautiful tenor voice:
“O I’m a man without a party—a free untrammeled soul!An undivided atom, within a mighty whole!I believe in all the people; in them we shall be blest,It is through the common people we shall find the promised rest.”
They went on, Ralph and Ruth, arm in arm, and the crowd followed. The moon came out in regal splendor as they reached the bridge. It wasSchwarmer’s bridge that the corporation had built for him. It had a lamp on each end, making it light enough to read the names on the boxes without difficulty. There was a large assortment of patriotic death-dealers such as the bill had shown—and more too. In a bundle tied up separately they found some choice specimens such as Powdered Crackers, Sacred Mandarins, Aaron’s Rod, Yankee Doodle Doos, and Giant Torpedos.
“These were for the large boys,” said Ralph. “Truly Mr. Schwarmer was going to give every boy in Killsbury a glorious chance to kill himself this year.”
“Do you suppose that any of those boxes could possibly be fished out?” asked Ruth after the last box had gone over the falls.
“Hardly,” laughed Ralph. “I never heard of anything being fished out that went over the falls into the deep hole at the foot. Some say it goes through to China. If it did it would be serving old China right—sending their vicious wares back to them.”
“And a curious reminder to John Chinaman if it be true that he uses the American Missionaries’ tracts in the construction of firecrackers for the American market,” said Father Ferrill. “At any rate we have the consolation of knowing that this batch of powder will be too wet to do any damage this Fourth. The City Fathers can get their ordinance in perfect working order before the next—soperfect that no miracle will be needed to help them out. Cromwell’s order to his soldiers was to ‘trust in the Lord and keep their powder dry.’ Lord grant that we may trust in His Holy Name and keep our powder wet.”
It was a reversion of the brutal saying that has been taught in military schools for more than a century, and it sounded like a benediction to Ruth as she took Ralph’s arm and turned away with a thankful heart.
They walked on in lover-like silence until Ruth broke out in her enthused way:
“Do you know, Ralph, I just love Father Ferrill!”
“Hold on there! Not too much of that, Ruth!”
“But Idolove him very much! He’s so good and wise. Wasn’t it splendid his re-version of Cromwell’s order?”
“Yes, Ruth, it was very apt, but you are not to love him.”
“Hush, Ralph! you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”
But it was honey-moon time and Ralph was not ashamed either of his words or actions on that charmed occasion. He finally admitted, however, after sundry concessions from Ruth that Father Ferrill was a very fine man, and that his re-version of the old Cromwellian adage had given him a new idea on the subject of adages.
“What is it, Ralph?”
“Tell it not to the professional litterateur or the dusty book-worm, Ruth; but the idea is that all those brutal old sayings that have been handed down to us from warring ages need to be revised or done away with as badly as the old brutal customs of which they were born. ‘In times of peace prepare for war,’ is another old serpent.”
“It should be, ‘In times of peace prepare for more peace,’” said Ruth.
“And love,” added Ralph.
As to the rest of the crowd that wended their way homeward that night it is safe to say that there was not a soul among them that did not feel elated with the thought that they had done a deed that would save more than one mother’s heart from anguish on the day that was fast approaching, and might be the means of saving scores upon scores in the years that were to come.
The Golden Rule President was more than pleased when he found that the shortest way had been made available, and that the people, “the blessed people,” had caught the inspiration of Divinity and had done their own work.
Editor Parnell’s report was a luminous one; but whether it hit the conscience or pride of one of the passengers on the Killsbury train the next morning will be revealed hereafter.
A GOOD CELEBRATION—ADELAIDE SCHWARMER AND RUTH’S DOG.
Ralphlearned that the Schwarmer Pyrotechnics and the agent employed to show them off had come as usual on the midnight train. His wife and daughter had also come, so as a matter of course there would be an extra display. They did not come every year as Schwarmer himself did.
“They were in London last Fourth and were royally entertained by a celebrated Pyrotechnist, who invented a patriotic piece called Eagle’s Screams on purpose for them,” said Ralph.
“Perhaps they brought one home with them.” laughed Ruth.
“And will bring it to the Hill to show off,” added Ralph. “Well it will be better and less dangerous than those abominable rockets.”
“I thought rockets were not very dangerous, Ralph.”
“There are rockets and rockets, sky rockets andwar rockets and the Satanic inventors are getting up new and worse ones every year. No knowing what kind they have on the Hill. I have known of their having one at least that travelled a much longer distance than from here to the Hill and then went swooping down to the earth like a thunder bolt from the sky; but how stupid of me to tell you so, dear. Forgive me if I have made you afraid.”
“Not a bit, Ralph! I am never going to be afraid any more—that is, if you will tell me all about those fiendish inventions, so I can keep out of their way and help keep others out also. O how dreadful though to think that such horrible things are made! Surely they never ought to be. They are made to kill. They are a menace to human life on a prodigious scale and the men who invent them are no better than would-be murderers and should be arrested and treated as such.”
“That’s true, Ruth, and yet the governments of the world approve and hasten to buy the murderous inventions. There’s an inventor in this state who has made a gun for this government that will throw a shell thirty miles and crash a boat into kindling wood and kill every soul on board. And now he is trying to invent one that will throw a shell one hundred miles—one that can reach from the coast of France across the English channel and rip out the heart of London!”
“O how hideous!” exclaimed Ruth. “He mustbe a fiend incarnate; but what about the Schwarmer rocket?”
“Here it goes,” said Ralph.
“Mamma came within an inch of having her arm gored by one of the rockets sent down from the Hill only last year. She cautioned me not to write to you about it. I thought it foolish not to; but perhaps it was right not to tell you then. Now it is different. You have grown so brave—so suddenly brave. It seems to me you are growing braver and braver every hour. It’s like a miracle! Explain.”
Ruth’s explanation set Ralph into raptures. Presently, however, she called for an explanation in turn.
“There isn’t much more to explain,” said Ralph. “We all sat on the piazza watching the sky-rockets that were being sent up from the hill, at least the rest were. If I remember rightly I wasn’t paying much attention to them. My imagination had ‘crossed over’—you understand gone over the border—across the river—you see?”
“Yes! yes Ralph, you foolish fellow—go on.”
“All at once up went a splendid rocket—ever and ever so high—‘up out of sight,’ papa said; but he was mistaken, for a second after it came whizzing down close by mamma’s arm and crashed into the ground. Mamma was sitting very near to the edge of the veranda. If she had only been an inch nearer it would have gashed her arm frightfullywithout doubt. I dug the thing up the next morning and am going to keep it in remembrance of Millionaire Schwarmer.”
“How did it look, Ralph? I never saw one except in air; tell me.”
“A conical shaped piece of lead, Ruth—worse than a cannon ball, because it has a pointed end. I’ll show it to you to-morrow.”
“We must tell the President about that and see if something can’t be done before another Fourth comes to stop him from showering such things upon the town,” said Ruth with decisive emphasis.
Then they went to the grove and worked like heroes. Ere long there was a great army of them. Tables were spread as if by magic and laden with fowls, fruits, cakes and candies of all description. The brass band played its best music. Flags fluttered in the breeze—mottoes were every-where and over the arched entrance was the unique invitation—“A feast is better than firecrackers. Come boys and girls. Save your eyes and your pennies.”
They came in overwhelming numbers—hand in hand with their fathers, mothers and teachers and with looks of eager interest on their young faces. They enjoyed themselves and each other’s society as they never had before on their nation’s birthday.
In fact the whole community seemed to have been taken suddenly off its feet (“out of the pit and miry clay” as the minister expressed it) andwhirled up to a higher plane. He preached the best sermon of his life, if it could be called a sermon. It was short and to the point—well adapted to the higher plane on which he was standing with all the rest.
Among the good things that he said was that “our National Day should be a day of tender memories, regrets and righteous resolves—tender memories of those who had died that we might have a free country in which to live. Regrets that such death and bloody sacrifice should have been essential or seemed so—deep regrets that we did not have a court of arbitration in the pre-revolutionary times, such as we now have; and resolves to appeal to it and abide by its wise decisions for all future time. As to this community which has been so providentially turned God-ward, or lifted to a higher plane let it be further resolved that we will maintain that high position with our whole might and main—that we will go ahead in this good fight until all these devil-caught celebrations, life-destroying games and brutal amusements are done away with—or the devil in them cast out.”
Ralph seconded the minister’s resolution and it was carried amidst manifestations of great joy.
It was afterward averred that the church people really kissed each other according to the biblical instruction and it is true that many mothers kissed their boys and that Ralph kissed Ruth fervently, whereupon those who did not know of theirmarriage became suddenly aware of it and there was a general rush to kiss the bride and congratulate the bridegroom.