Keeping Up with William: In which the Honorable Socrates Potter Talks of the Relative Merits of Sense Common and Preferred — Socrates — John Shaqi
Keeping Up with William: In which the Honorable Socrates Potter Talks of the Relative Merits of Sense Common and Preferred
Socrates · en
“Lest we forget the innumerable dead who have nobly died, and the host
of the living who with a just and common sense and love of honor have
sent them forth to die. Lest we forget that we and our allies have not
been above reproach; that there were signs of decadence among us--in the
growing love of ease and idleness, in the tango dance of literature and
lust, in the exaltation of pleasure, in a very definite degeneration of
our moral fiber.
“Lest we forget that our spirit is being purified in the furnace of war
and the shadow of death. Do you remember the protest of those poilus
when some unclean plays were sent to the battle front for their
entertainment?
“'We are not pigs'--that was the message they sent back.
“Lest we forget that the spirit of man has been lifted up out of the
mud and dust of the battle lines, out of the body tortured with pain and
weariness and vermin, out of the close companionship of the dead into
high association on the bloody altar of liberty and sacrifice.
“Lest we forget that the spirit of our own boys shall be thus lifted up,
and our duty to put our house in order and make it a fit place for them
to live in when they shall have returned to it from battle-fields swept,
as a soldier has written, by the cleansing winds of God.”
CHAPTER II.--WHICH TEACHES THAT ONE SHOULD NEVER HITCH HIS CONSCIENCE TO
A POST AS IF IT WERE A NANNY-GOAT AND GO OFF AND LEAVE IT
Truth is a great teacher but she often quarrels with the cook,” said
Mr. Potter, while looking at his watch.
He went to the telephone and called his home and presently began to
address his wife as follows:
“Hello, Betsy! Say, don't expect me 'till I come. I'm in trouble. A
feller came in here and started the war all over again and there's no
tellin' when it'll end. I do not want an inconclusive peace.”
As he hung up the telephone his stenographer came in to say good night.
Mr. Potter took his old rifle off the wall, dusted It with a desk cloth
and said:
“My great grandfather used that in the battle of Lexington.”
He squinted down its long barrel while he gave these instructions to his
helper.
“Joe, send down to The Sign of the Flapjack, née Child's, and order
corned beef hash and poached eggs and apple pie and coffee for two.”
He turned to me and asked:
“Any amendments to propose to that ticket?”
“None,” I answered.
“Then we will consider it elected. Have the table spread here by the
fire, if you please.”