Jasper County Democrat, Volume 14, Number 19, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 24 June 1911 — The Patriotism of Peter [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

The Patriotism of Peter

A Little Love Story For the Fourth.

By TEMPLE BAILEY.

“/YH. my goodness!” said Annette. I ■ “I thought you had more patriotism, Peter.” Peter stretched bis languid length in the great wicker chair on the other side of the tea table from which Annette„ dispensed afternoon hospitality in her rose garden. ‘‘Dear girl,” he asked, “who can measure patriotism? Because I won't march in, a parade with a lot of butt and blue idiots you choose to say that I do not love my country.” “Arnold Adams is not an idiot” Annette interrupted. Peter's eyes narrowed. “Then Arnold Adams parades, does he. and makes a speech to the accompaniment of appropriate fireworks?" “He makes his speech in the afternoon." Annette vouchsafed. “Every one seems eager to help me out with my Fourth of July garden party but you.” "Dear girl. I’ll come and pass cake and listen to the Declaration, but I can’t parade in costume-" “Well, the men all look lovely in their new uniforms.” Annette informed him. “Somehow.” said Peter, “a uniform is associated in my mind with service. There are the old regimentals of my great-grandfather, all stained with mud. and the faded blue cape that my father keeps in memory of Gettysburg is blotched with red.” He shrugged his shoulders. “But it’s too hot this weather to dress up for nothing.” “Nothing- oh!” Annette flung out her hands. “I don't believe you'd fight if there was a war, Peter.” Peter leaned across the table. “Considering my ancestry.” he said slowly, “is there any reason you should think that?” “Modern men haven’t any backbone,” she taunted. “Don’t go too far.” he told her. “My idea of love of country is something deeper than mere shouting for freedom.” “Love of country is courage,” she said. “You mean?” he demanded. “That I’m disappointed in you, Peter.” Her eyes blazed. “I believe you’re too lazy to carry a gun.” “Stop!” he thundered and stood up. Annette stood up too. She slipped from her finger a wonderful hoop of diamonds. “There*" she said, “take IL If you loved me you would see my point of view. It isn’t that I want you to wear blue and buff; I want you to show your patriotism.” “Ah—patriotism!” Peter picked up the ring. “If you ever want this again you must ask for it, Annette. I am afraid that otherwise, I can never forgive the woman who has called me coward.” “I shall never ask for it!” she blazed as Peter turned on his heel and left her. When the great day came Annette tried to interest herself in the decorations. the refreshments, in Arnold Adams. who, looking very handsome in his colonial uniform, hung over her, and when he made bls speech his eyes were on her. Annette didn’t like bls speech. It smacked of artificiality. There was in it so much of stars and stripes and

the glory of country, but no depth of earnestness, no deep appeal to the hearts of men. When be bad finished he came down expecting Annette’s praise. But she didn’t give it “Can’t we get away for a moment from these people?" she said. “I’m so tired of the crowd.” “I'll take you up the road in my car,” Adams proposed. So it came about that fifteen minutes later Peter Van Dorn, sitting on the billside, saw far down the curved road a big red car and within It a splendid gentleman in blue and buff and a lady in a rose wreathed haL He saw something else too. Just below him a little dirty, curly beaded child from the Italian settlement near by was digging contentedly in ( the dust, right in {he path of the,ear that was coming around the curve. It took only a moment for Peter te plunge shouting down the bank, to catch up the baby and cross the road. He was safe, but the two in the car had whitened at his danger. Annette

“Was crouched in a heap as Adams brought the big machine to a stop. “Oh. I thought you would be killed. Peter!” Peter, with the screaming child Id his arms, smiled at her. “It was nothin?.” he said. ■ J • “1 should hare thought you would hare been afraid," Annette began. Peter stiffened. “You seem to think that I am always afraid.” he said, and before she could answer be lifted his hat and was gone. ' All that evening she watched for her lover, but he did not.come At last she could stand it no longer. She sat down at the lemonade table and talked it over with her most intimate girt friend. “Lucy,” she said, “Pre been hateful to Peter. What shall I do?" “Eat humble pie.” advised Lucy, “t'eter's worth it" “I know.” Annette admitted, “but I don't know where he is," “Wait till he shows up.” said Lucy, “and in the meantime we’ll make Arnold Adams take us down the river road in his car.” They passed the big canneries, where many Italians were employed: passed, too. the squalid little settle- / meat where in a big open space a crowd of swarthy men-and women and children were gathered about a big man in white flannels. Annette caught her breath. “Why, it’s Peter!" she gasped. “Stop a minute and see what he's doing.” As the big motor stood in the shadow of the trees Pet er's voice came to them. He was speaking tn Italian, and Annette. > hanks to three winters in Rome, understood all that he said. As she listened she felt herself growing smaller and smaller. This was the Peter whom she had accused of lack of patriotism, this man who was speaking so eloquently to these newcomers to his native soil, telling them what it meant to be an American.

what it meant to be a good citizen, what it meant to live for his country as well as to die for it. “Oh, Peter. Peter!” her heart cried, although her Ups were silent. But when the speech was ended she spoke: “I’m going to get out a minute. 1 want to see Peter.” Swiftly she walked straight over to the astonished Peter. “Oh. yon wonderful man!” she said, with shining eyes. “I never heard such a speech!” “Not even Arnold’s?” he asked as he led her through the smiling crowd. “Not even anybody's. Oh. Peter. I want my ring”— “Dear heart.** he murmured as he bent tenderly over her.

“STOP!” HE THUNDERED.

IT TOOK ONLY A MOMENT.