Perhaps as the war comes nearer, we
shall feel more, and every day it is coming nearer--"
It was very near, indeed. Thousands of those gray sheep were lying
dead on the plains of Picardy--the Allies fought with their backs to
the wall--Americans who had swaggered, secure in the prowess of Uncle
Sam, swaggered no longer, and pondered on the parable of the Wise and
Foolish Virgins.
Slowly the nation waked to what was before it. In America now lay the
hope of the world. The Wolf must be trapped, the sheep saved in spite
of themselves, those poor sheep, driven blindly to slaughter.
The General was not quite sure that they were sheep, or that they were
being driven. He held, rather, that they knew what they were
about--and were not to be pitied.
Teddy, considering this gravely, went back to previous meditations, and
asked if he prayed for his enemies.
"Bless my soul," said the old gentleman, "why should I?"
"Well, Mother says we must, and then some day they'll stop and say they
are sorry--"
The General chuckled, "Your mother is optimistic."
"What's 'nopt'mistic?"
"It means always believing that nice things will happen.
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