He slipped his arm about his mother's slender waist, drew her to the
window and pointed to the unfinished dome of the white, majestic
capitol.
"See, mater dear, the sun is bursting through the clouds now and
lighting with splendor the marble columns. Last night when the speeches
were done and the crowds gone I stood an hour and studied the flawless
symmetry of those magnificent wings and over it all the great solemn
dome with its myriad gleaming eyes far up in the sky--and I wondered if
God meant nothing big or significant to humanity when he breathed the
dream of that poem in marble into the souls of our people! I can't
believe it, dear. I stood and prayed while I dreamed. I saw in the
ragged scaffolding and the big ugly crane swinging from its place in the
sky the symbol of our crude beginnings--our ragged past. And then the
snow-white vision of the finished building, the most majestic monument
ever reared on earth to Freedom and her cause--and I saw the glory of a
new Democracy rising from the blood and agony of the past to be the hope
and inspiration of the world!
"You hate this masquerade--this battle name I've chosen. Forget this,
dear, and see the vision your God has given to me. You've prayed that I
might be His minister.
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