The Chemawa American, October 01, 1913, Page 8, Image 8

THE OHEMAWA AMERICAN
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“ What an o d d ’at that man wears.” “ Yes,” said the Driver, “ but
what would you give for the ’ead piece he wears under the at?
Back in babyhood we are shut in by the very limited walls of our
knowledge. The mother is the first teacher. Then comes the playmate,
the father, the school-teacher, the boss, the superintendent; all endeavor
to lead us out into the broad world. Education transports us to all parts
of the world and to all periods of history. It means the enlargement
of the individual. As pig-iron may be made into watch springs, as a
pine tree may be spun into silk, so may men and women be made of
greater or less value to the home, the city, the state, the nation, and
the world.
Those who are to hold the human hearts above the bags of gold will
not be those who, when the battle of life roars and rages all about,
think it’s a good time to slip away under the cover of the cloud of
smoke, who have not the place in the line that they think they ought to
have, who have not been appreciated, nor their efforts thus far rightly
regarded or rewarded. The truth is such men are wanting in soldierly
courage and character. The true warrior is he who responds to his
commander’s order, Go in anywhere, there s beautiful fighting all
along the line.” A man’s opportunity is not in his position, his weap­
onry, his friendships, but in himself. The Sons of the King in the
battle and work of life are not dawdling, complaining, pessimistic shirk­
ers and deserters. The true soldier will repair all damage, overleap all
obstacles, forge fit weaponry, find or make his own opportunity, and
against all odds will snatch Victory out of the jaws of defeat.
“ This I beheld—or dreamed it in a dream;
There spread a cloud of dust along the plain;
And underneath the cloud, or in it, raged
A furious battle, and men yelled, and swords
Shocked upon swords and shields. A Prince’s banner
Wavered, then staggered backward, hemmed by foes.
A craven hung along the battle’s edge
And thought: Had I a sword of keener steel,—
That blue blade that the King’s Son bears—but this
Blunt thing! He snapt and flung it from his hand,
And, lowering, crept away and left the field.
Then came the King’s Son, wounded, sore bestead
And weaponless, and saw the broken sword,
Hilt buried in the dry and trodden sand,
And ran and snatched it, and, with battle shout
Lifted afresh, he hewed his enemy down
And saved a great cause on that heroic day.’’
“ There’s tramping of hoofs in the busy street,
There’s clanking of sabres on floor and stair,
There,s sounds of restless, hurrying feet,
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