Both Harvey D. and Gideon rebuked him for this levity, reminding him that he did not take into account the extreme sensitiveness of Merle.

Sharon merely said:  “Mebbe so, mebbe not.”

There came another issue of the New Dawn.  It was a live issue, and contained a piece by the associate editor entitled, This Unpopular War, in which it was clearly shown that this war was unpopular.  It was unpopular with every one the writer had questioned; no one wanted it, every one condemned it, even those actually engaged in it at Washington.  The marvel was that an army could continue to go forward with existing public sentiment as the New Dawn revealed it.  But a better day was said to be dawning.  The time was at hand when an end would be put to organized exploitation and murder, which was all that the world had thus far been able to evolve in the way of a government.

In a foreword to the readers of the New Dawn, however, a faintly ominous note was sounded.  It appeared that the interests had heinously conspired to suppress the magazine because of its loyalty to the ideals of free thought and free speech.  In short, its life was menaced.  Support was withdrawn by those who had suddenly perceived that the New Dawn meant the death of privilege; that “this flowering of mature and seasoned personalities” threatened the supremacy of the old order of industrial slavery.  The mature and seasoned personalities had sounded the prelude to the revolution which “here bloodily, there peaceably, and beginning with Russia, would sweep the earth.”  Capital, affrighted, had drawn back.  It was therefore now necessary that the readers of the New Dawn bear their own burden.  If they would send in money in such sums as they could spare—­and it was felt that these would flow in abundantly upon a hint—­the magazine would continue and the revolution be a matter of days.  It was better, after all, that the cause should no longer look to capital for favours.  Contributors were to sign on the dotted line.

There were no more New Dawns.  The forces of privilege had momentarily prevailed, or the proletariat had been insufficiently roused to its plight.  The New Dawn stopped, and in consequence the war went on.  For a time, at least, America must continue in that spiritual darkness which the New Dawn had sought to illumine.

Later it became known in Newbern that the staff of the New Dawn would now deliver its message by word of mouth.  Specifically, Merle Whipple was said to be addressing throngs of despairing toilers not only in New York, but in places as remote as Chicago.  Sharon Whipple now called him a crimson rambler.

* * * * *

Meanwhile, news of the other Cowan twin trickled into Newbern through letters from Winona Penniman, a nurse with the forces overseas.  During her months of training in New York the epistolary style of Winona had maintained its old leisurely elegance, but early in the year of 1918 it suffered severely under the strain of active service and became blunt to the point of crudeness.  The morale of her nice phrases had been shattered seemingly beyond restoration.