With these bold words Lamszus concludes his apologia for the brutality of "The Human Slaughter-House." OAKLEY WILLIAMS. [_Translation_.] To HERR LAMSZUS. _XIXme Congres Universel de la Paix a Geneve_. _Geneve_,1912. DEAR SIR, I have great pleasure in acquitting myself of the duty of expressing to you, in the name of "The Commission for Education, Instruction, etc.," composed of delegates of the most varied nations assembled at the World's Peace Congress, and, further, in the name of all Pacificists, our thanks for the distinguished word-picture of rare artistic originality and of gripping effectiveness of the wholesale murders of the future in "The Human Slaughter-House," _for having furnished the cause of peace with a weapon of considerable importance_, and for having more especially made a very valuable gift to the cause of every Pacificist. May the blessing of its work be great! On behalf of the Congress Commission for Education, Instruction, etc. DR. A. WESTPHAL, _Secretary_. THE HUMAN SLAUGHTER-HOUSE CHAPTER I MOBILIZATION War! War is declared! So the news speeds hollow-eyed through the streets. We are at war. It's the real thing this time. Mobilization! The ominous word dominates the placards on the hoardings. The newspapers reproduce the proclamations in their heaviest type, and rumors and dispatches flutter like a ruffled dovecote round this day of Blood and Iron. It is deadly earnest now. And this sense of the seriousness of it has numbed the State like a stroke of paralysis. But then a jar, as of a lever thrown over, goes through the vast iron fabric. And every one has got to yield to this jar. The time for anxiety and hesitation is over, for doubts and oscillation. The moment has now come when we cease to be citizens, from henceforward we are only soldiers--soldiers who have no time to think, who only have time to die. So they come flocking in from the work-shops, from the factories, from behind the counters, from business offices, and the open country--they come flocking into the town, and every man falls in to stand by his native land. "Four days from date" was the order on my summons. Well, the fourth morning has come, and I have said good-by to my wife and my two children. Thank God, the fourth morning has come, for the parting was not easy, and my heart aches when I think of them "at home." "Where are you going, Daddy?" asked Baby, as I kissed her for the last time with my portmanteau in my hand. "Daddy's going on a journey," said her mother, and looked at me with a smile amid her tears. "Yes, he's going on a journey, girlie, and you, little chap, you've got to be good, and do as Mummy tells you." And then we got the parting over quickly, for Dora kept up her pluck until the last moment.... * * * * * Now we are drawn up in the barrack-yard with bag and baggage--we of the rank and file--we reservists and militiamen, every man at his place by the table.