thorities
at Washington drifting aimlessly and unpreparedly into an armed
conflict which is bound to come. Our president should demand from
congress at once a declaration that a state of war exists with
Germany, and with that declaration should go a system of organized
preparedness, and then, sir, we should go to Europe and fight, and,
thus fighting, help our Allies and save our native land. It shall be
my errand to Washington to urge such an aggressive course."

Of his belief in his theory there could be no doubt. Of his
earnestness in advocating it there was not the slightest question. His
profound sympathy with the Allies did credit to his heart as well as
his judgment. And the devotion of this one-armed and enfeebled veteran
to the cause of his own country, his eagerness to serve her in the
field and his confidence in his ability still to do so, were pathetic
as well as inspiring. It was all so big, and patriotic, and splendid,
even in its childish egotism and simplicity, that the pure absurdity
of it found no place in the mind of this affectionate and
manly-hearted boy.

"I believe you are right, grandfather," he said, "and it's noble of
you to offer your services that way."

"Thank you, sir!"

The colonel turned as if to move toward the information desk at the
office, and then turned back.

"Pardon me!" he said, "but I forgot to inquire concerning your own
errand in the city."

"I am on my way to Canada, grandfather."

A look of surprise came into the old man's eyes, followed at once by
an expression of infinite scorn. He remembered that, in the days of
the civil war, slackers and rebel sympathizers who wished to evade the
draft made their way across the national border into Canada. They had
received the contempt of their own generation and had drawn a
figurative bar-sinister across the shield of their descendants. Could
it be possible that this grandchild of his was about to add disgrace
to disloyalty? That, in addition to heaping insults on the flag of his
country as a boy, he was now, as a man, taking time by the forelock
and escaping to the old harbor of safety to avoid some possible future
conscription? The absurdity and impracticability of such a proposition
did not occur to him at the moment, only the humiliation and the
horror of it.

"To Canada, sir?" he demanded; "the refuge of cowards and copperheads!
Why to Canada, sir, in the face of this impending crisis in your
country's affairs?"

His