John Passos - The 42nd Parallel

Gertrude Moorehouse was sitting in a long chair beside a crackling fire. Eleanor glanced around the room and was pleased at how lovely it looked. Gertrude Moorehouse went very pale when she saw her. “I wanted to talk to you,” said Eleanor. Gertrude Moorehouse held out her hand without getting up. “Excuse me for not getting up, Miss Stoddard,” she said, “but I’m absolutely prostrated by the terrible news.”

“Civilization demands a sacrifice… from all of us,” said Eleanor.

“Of course it is terrible what the Huns have done, cutting the hands off Belgian children and all that,” said Gertrude Moorehouse.

“Mrs. Moorehouse,” said Eleanor. “I want to speak to you about this unfortunate misunderstanding of my relations with your husband… Do you think I am the sort of woman who could come out here and face you if there was anything in these horrible rumors? Our relations are pure as driven snow.”

“Please don’t speak of it, Miss Stoddard. I believe you.”

When J.W. came in they were sitting on either side of the fire talking about Gertrude’s operation. Eleanor got to her feet. “Oh, I think it’s wonderful of you, J.W.”

J.W. cleared his throat and looked from one to the other.

“It’s little less than my duty,” he said.

“What is it?” asked Gertrude.

“I have offered my services to the government to serve in whatever capacity they see fit for the duration of the war.” “Not at the front,” said Gertrude with a startled look.

“I’m leaving for Washington tomorrow… Of course I shall serve without pay.”

“Ward, that’s noble of you,” said Gertrude. He walked over slowly until he stood beside her chair, then he leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. “We must all make our sacrifices… My dear, I shall trust you and your mother…”

“Of course, Ward, of course… It’s all been a silly misunderstanding.” Gertrude flushed red. She got to her feet. “I’ve been a damn suspicious fool… but you mustn’t go to the front, Ward. I’ll talk mother around”… She went up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Eleanor stood back against the wall looking at them. He wore a smoothfitting tuxedo. Gertrude’s salmoncolored teagown stood out against the black. His light hair was ashgray in the light from the crystal chandelier against the tall ivorygray walls of the room. His face was in shadow and looked very sad. Eleanor thought how little people understood a man like that, how beautiful the room was, like a play, like a Whistler, like Sarah Bernhardt. Emotion misted her eyes.

“I’ll join the Red Cross,” she said. “I can’t wait to get to France.”

U. S. AT WAR

UPHOLD NATION CITY’S CRY

Over there

Over there

at the annual meeting of the stockholders of the Colt Patent Firearms Manufacturing Company a $2,500,000 melon was cut. The present capital stock was increased. The profits for the year were 259 per cent

JOYFUL SURPRISE OF BRITISH

The Yanks are coming

We’re coming o-o-o-ver

PLAN LEGISLATION TO KEEP COLORED PEOPLE

FROM WHITE AREAS

many millions paid for golf about Chicago Hindu agitators in nationwide scare Armour Urges U.S. Save Earth From Famine

ABUSING FLAG TO BE PUNISHED

Labor deputies peril to Russia acts have earmarks of dishonorable peace London hears

BILLIONS FOR ALLIES

And we won’t come home

Till it’s over over there.

there were priests and nuns on the Espagne the Atlantic was glassgreen and stormy covers were clamped on the portholes and all the decklights were screened and you couldn’t light a match on deck

but the stewards were very brave and said the Boche wouldn’t sink a boat of the Compagnie Generale anyway, because of the priests and nuns and the Jesuits and the Comité des Forges promising not to bombard the Bassin de la Brieye where the big smelters were and stock in the company being owned by the Prince de Bourbon and the Jesuits and the priests and nuns

anyhow everybody was very brave except for Colonel and Mrs. Knowlton of the American Red Cross who had waterproof coldproof submarineproof suits like eskimosuits and they wore them and they sat up on deck with the suits all blown up and only their faces showing and there were firstaid kits in the pockets and in the belt there was a waterproof container with milkchocolate and crackers and maltedmilk tablets

and in the morning you’d walk round the deck and there would be Mr. Knowlton blowing up Mrs. Knowlton

or Mrs. Knowlton blowing up Mr. Knowlton

the Roosevelt boys were very brave in stiff visored new American army caps and sharpshooter medals on the khaki whipcord and they talked all day about We must come in We must come in

as if the war were a swimming pool

and the barman was brave and the stewards were brave they’d all been wounded and they were very glad that they were stewards and not in the trenches

and the pastry was magnificent

at last it was the zone and a zigzag course we sat quiet in the bar and then it was the mouth of the Gironde and a French torpedoboat circling round the ship in the early pearl soft morning and the steamers following the little patrolboat on account of the minefields the sun was rising red over the ruddy winegrowing land and the Gironde was full of freighters and airplanes in the sun and battleships

the Garonne was red it was autumn there were barrels of new wine and shellcases along the quays in front of the grayfaced houses and the masts of stocky sailboats packed in against the great red iron bridge

at the Hotel of the Seven Sisters everybody was in mourning but business was brisk on account of the war and every minute they expected the government to come down from Paris

up north they were dying in the mud and the trenches but business was good in Bordeaux and the winegrowers and the shipping agents and the munitionsmakers crowded into the Chapon Fin and ate ortolans and mushrooms and truffles and there was a big sign

MEFIEZ-VOUS

les oreilles enemies vous écoutent

red wine twilight and yellowgravelled squares edged with wine-barrels and a smell of chocolate in the park gray statues and the names of streets

Street of Lost Hopes, Street of the Spirit of the Laws, Street of Forgotten Footsteps

and the smell of burning leaves and the grayfaced Bourbon houses crumbling into red wine twilight

at the Hotel of the Seven Sisters after you were in bed late at night you suddenly woke up and there was a secretserviceagent going through your bag

and he frowned over your passport and peeped in your books and said Monsieur c’est la petite visite

La Follette was born in the town limits of Primrose; he worked on a farm in Dane County, Wisconsin, until he was nineteen.

At the university of Wisconsin he worked his way through. He wanted to be an actor, studied elocution and Robert Ingersoll and Shakespeare and Burke;

(who will ever explain the influence of Shakespeare in the last century, Marc Antony over Caesar’s bier, Othello to the Venetian Senate and Polonius, everywhere Polonius?)

riding home in a buggy after commencement he was Booth and Wilkes writing the Junius papers and Daniel Webster and Ingersoll defying God and the togaed great grave and incorruptible as statues magnificently spouting through the capitoline centuries;

he was the star debater in his class,

and won an interstate debate with an oration on the character of Iago.

He went to work in a law office and ran for district attorney. His schoolfriends canvassed the county riding round evenings. He bucked the machine and won the election.