(2) Teach the children the pledge on the first page of Chapter One of the present volume. Teach them to teach that pledge, or some similar pledge, to other children. (3) Teach the boys and girls the _historical origin_ of the working class. (See Chapter Eleven.) (4) Explain to the boys and girls, page by page, all of Chapter Ten, and _urge them to explain the matter to other children_. (5) Patiently and clearly explain the meaning and the purpose of the local militia and the army. (6) Interest the children in a circulating anti-war library, and _co-operate with them in promoting the enterprise_. (7) A Ten-Dollar Cash Prize for the best definition of a militiaman who is willing to shoot the fathers and brothers of the little working class children of his neighborhood when those fathers and brothers are on strike struggling to better the condition of the mothers and the children—such a prize contest would induce a great amount of helpful thoughtfulness and discussion. (8) Further suggestions will be found at the opening of Chapter Twelve. See also Index: “Suggestions.” (=21=) Following are several passages suitable for children as declamations. Also see Index, “Declamations.” (=A=) The Soldier’s Creed:[280] “Captain, what do you think,” I asked, “Of the part your soldiers play?” But the captain answered, “I do not think; I do not think, I obey!” “Do you think you should shoot a patriot down, Or help a tyrant slay?” But the captain answered, “I do not think; I do not think, I obey!” “Do you think your conscience was made to die, And your brain to rot away?” But the captain answered, “I do not think; I do not think, I obey!” “Then if this is your soldier’s creed,” I cried, “You’re a mean unmanly crew; And for all your feathers and gilt and braid, I am more of a man than you! “For whatever my place in life may be, And whether I swim or sink, I can say with pride, ‘I do not obey; I do not obey, I _think_!’” (=B=) ROBERT G. INGERSOLL’S MUSINGS AT THE TOMB OF NAPOLEON:[281] “A little while ago I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon—a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a deity dead—and gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world.