England has only her world to show!
They are not dreamers, these men of the Empire,
Guarding their land in the old-time way,
And this is the style that prevails in the Legions,--
"The foe of the past is a friend to-day."
_"It's a long, long road to the Empire
(From Beersheba even to Dan)
And the time is rather late for a chronic Hymn of Hate,--
And we know the tailor doesn't make the man!"_
XIX
ADMIRAL OF NEW ENGLAND
Barefoot and touzle-headed, in the coarse russet and blue homespun of an
apprentice, a small boy sidled through the wood. Like a hunted hedgehog,
he was ready to run or fight. Where a bright brook slid into the
meadows, he stopped, and looked through new leaves at the infinite blue
of the sky. Words his grandfather used to read to him came back to his
mind.
"Let the inhabitants of the rock sing, let them shout from the top of
the mountain."
The Bible which old Joseph Bradford had left to his grandson had been
taken away, but no one could take away the memory of it. If he had
dared, Will would have shouted aloud then and there. For all his hunger
and weariness and dread of the future the strength of the land entered
into his young soul. He drank of the clear brook, and let it wash away
the soil of his pilgrimage.
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