The Pride of PalomarKyne, Peter B. (Peter Bernard)
General
The Pride of Palomar
Kyne, Peter B. (Peter Bernard)
Asian Americans -- Fiction; California -- Fiction; Ranch life -- Fiction; Western stories
"Soldiers deal with events, not theories. They learn to call a spade a
spade, Miss Parker. I repeat: It wasn't a war to make the world safe
for democracy. That phrase was just a slogan in a business
campaign--the selling of stock in a military enterprise to apathetic
Americans. We had to fight or be overrun; when we realized that, we
fought. Are not the present antics of the Supreme Council in Paris
sufficient proof that saving democracy was just another shibboleth? Is
not a ghastly war to be followed by a ghastly peace? The press-agents
and orators popularized the war with the unthinking and the hesitant,
which is proof enough to me that we lack national unity and a definite
national policy. We're a lot of sublimated jackasses, sacrificing our
country to ideals that are worn at elbow and down at heel. 'Other
times, other customs.' But we go calmly and stupidly onward, hugging
our foolish shibboleths to our hearts, hiding behind them, refusing to
do to-day that which we can put off until to-morrow. That is truly an
Anglo-Saxon trait. In matters of secondary importance, we yield a
ready acquiescence which emboldens our enemies to insist upon
acquiescence in matters of primary importance. And quite frequently
they succeed. I tell you the Anglo-Saxon peoples are the only ones
under heaven that possess a national conscience, and because they
possess it, they are generous enough to assume that other races are
similarly endowed."
"I believe," Parker stuck in, as Don Miguel ceased from his passionate
denunciation, "that all this is leading quite naturally to a discussion
of Japanese emigration."
"I admit that the sight of Mr. Okada over in the corner of the patio,
examining with interest the only sweet-lime tree in North America,
inspired my outburst," Farrel answered smilingly.
"You speak of our national shibboleths, Don Mike Farrel," Kay reminded
him. "If you please, what might they be?"
"You will recognize them instantly, Miss Parker. Let us start with our
Declaration of Independence: 'All men are created equal.' Ah, if the
framers of that great document had only written, 'All men are created
theoretically equal!' For all men are not morally, intellectually, or
commercially equal: For instance, Pablo is equal with me before the
law, although I hazard the guess that if he and I should commit a
murder, Pablo would be hanged and I would be sentenced to life
imprisonment; eventually, I might be pardoned or paroled. Are you
willing to admit that Pablo Artelan is not my equal?" he challenged
suddenly.
"Certainly!" Kay and her father both cried in unison.
"Very well. Is Mr. Okada my equal?"
"He is Pablo's superior," Parker felt impelled to declare.
"He is not your equal," Kay declared firmly. "Dad, you're begging the
question."
"We-ll, no," he assented, "Not from the Anglo-Saxon point of view. He
is, however, from the point of view of his own nationals."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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