the park."

The table and chairs disappeared and a bench took their place. There
followed a procession of folk apparently passing through the park. A
workman, shovel and pick over his shoulder, stopped to look up at the
trees. That was James. A young man and his sweetheart--Roger and Ethel
Brown--strolled slowly along. Dicky rolled a hoop. Margaret, carrying a
baby borrowed from the audience, sat down on a bench and put it to
sleep.

The onlookers approved highly of this prophecy which was of a state of
affairs which they all wanted.

"The other day," went on Helen in her gentle voice, "I found a prophecy
that was not written for this war but for another, yet it is just as
true for the great war that is devastating the homes and hearts of men
today. It was written by Miss Bates who wrote 'America the Beautiful,'
which we all sing in school, and it is called 'The Great Twin Brethren.'
You remember that the Great Twin Brethren were Castor and Pollux. They
were regarded as gods by the Romans. They fought for the Romans in the
battle of Lake Regillus, and the high priest said about it, according to
Macaulay:

Back comes the Chief in triumph
Who, in the hour of fight,
Hath seen the Great Twin Brethren
In harness on his right.

These are the divine helpers to whom Miss Bates refers in her poem."

On the screen there came into view the shadows of Castor and Pollux
dressed like Roman knights--with a corselet over a loose shirt, a short
plaited skirt, greaves to protect their legs, a helmet on the head and a
spear in the hand. While Ethel Brown, who had stepped forward, read the
poem, the two figures--really Roger and Tom, who were nearly of a
height--stood motionless. As it ended they glided backward and faded
from view.

THE GREAT TWIN BRETHREN

The battle will not cease
Till once again on those white steeds ye ride
O Heaven-descended Twins,
Before Humanity's bewildered host.
Our javelins
Fly wide,
And idle is our cannon's boast.
Lead us, triumphant Brethren, Love and Peace.

A fairer Golden Fleece
Our more adventurous Argo fain would seek,
But save, O Sons of Jove,
Your blended light go with us, vain employ
It were to rove
This bleak
Blind waste. To unimagined joy
Guide us, immortal Brethren, Love and Peace.

These beautiful lines were read with great seriousness and their
profound meaning went to the hearts of the hearers. Its gravity was
counter