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On the wall was a banner lettered "Service Before Self," and the menu—the celery, cream of tomato soup, broiled haddock, chicken croquettes, peas, and tutti-frutti ice-cream—was up to the highest standards of the Hotel Wessex. General Edgeways was completing his manly yet mystical rhapsody on nationalism: "...for these U-nited States, a-lone among the great powers, have no desire for foreign conquest.Pray God it may never be necessary, but if foreign nations don't sharply heed our warning, there will, as when the proverbial dragon's teeth were sowed, spring up an armed and fearless warrior upon every square foot of these United States, so arduously cultivated and defended by our pioneer fathers, whose sword-girded images we must be... " All the audience made their faces to shine upon the General and Mr.

Our only gen-uine relationship to Europe is in our arduous task of having to try and educate the crass and ignorant masses that Europe has wished onto us up to something like a semblance of American culture and good manners.

That's good enough in its way, but isn't it, after all, just a nice toy for grownups?

No, what we all of us must have, if this great land is going to go on maintaining its high position among the Congress of Nations, is Discipline—Will Power—Character!

" She turned prettily then toward General Edgeways and laughed: "You've been telling us about how to secure peace, but come on, now, General—just among us Rotarians and Rotary Anns—'fess up! " The General was short and globular, and his red face was smooth as a baby's bottom and adorned with white-gold-framed spectacles.

With your great experience, don't you honest, cross-your-heart, think that perhaps—just maybe—when a country has gone money-mad, like all our labor unions and workmen, with their propaganda to hoist income taxes, so that the thrifty and industrious have to pay for the shiftless ne'er-do-weels, then maybe, to save their lazy souls and get some iron into them, a war might be a good thing? But he had the military snort and a virile chuckle. " he guffawed, on his feet, shaking a chummy forefinger at Mrs.

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