“Who are those people who are cheering?” asked the recruit as the soldiers marched to the train.

“Those,” replied the veteran, “are the people who are not going.”—­Puck.

  He who did well in war, just earns the right
  To begin doing well in peace.

  —­Robert Browning.

A great and lasting war can never be supported on this principle [patriotism] alone.  It must be aided by a prospect of interest, or some reward.—­George Washington.

See also Arbitration, International; European War.

WARNINGS

Pietro had drifted down to Florida and was working with a gang at railroad construction.  He had been told to beware of rattlesnakes, but assured that they would always give the warning rattle before striking.

One hot day he was eating his noon luncheon on a pine log when he saw a big rattler coiled a few feet in front of him.  He eyed the serpent and began to lift his legs over the log.  He had barely got them out of the way when the snake’s fangs hit the bark beneath him.

“Son of a guna!” yelled Pietro.  “Why you no ringa da bell?”

WASHINGTON, GEORGE

A Barnegat schoolma’am had been telling her pupils something about George Washington, and finally she asked: 

“Can any one now tell me which Washington was—­a great general or a great admiral?”

The small son of a fisherman raised his hand, and she signaled him to speak.

“He was a great general,” said the boy.  “I seen a picture of him crossing the Delaware, and no great admiral would put out from shore standing up in a skiff.”

A Scotsman visiting America stood gazing at a fine statue of George Washington, when an American approached.

“That was a great and good man, Sandy,” said the American; “a lie never passed his lips.”

“Weel,” said the Scot, “I praysume he talked through his nose like the rest of ye.”

WASPS

The wasp cannot speak, but when he says “Drop it,” in his own inimitable way, neither boy nor man shows any remarkable desire to hold on.

WASTE

The automobile rushed down the road—­huge, gigantic, sublime.  Over the fence hung the woman who works hard and long-her husband is at the cafe and she has thirteen little ones. (An unlucky number.) Suddenly upon the thirteenth came the auto, unseeing, slew him, and hummed on, unknowing.  The woman who works hard and long rushed forward with hands, hands made rough by toil, upraised.  She paused and stood inarticulate—­a goddess, a giantess.  Then she hurled forth these words of derision, of despair:  “Mon Dieu!  And I’d just washed him!”—­Literally translated from Le Sport of Paris.