Part 2 (2/2)
she demanded. ”You want to be Americans, don't you? You want to learn what being an American means, don't you?” Her eyes were fastened appealingly on a slender Russian lad, slouching in his chair at the end of the row. ”You want to be an American, I know.”
Suddenly the slim lithe figure straightened, and the dark brows drew together in a frown. ”What are you getting at?” came in a sharp tone.
”I'm an American, ain't I? You don't take me for no German, do you?”
”No, no, of course not,” she apologized placatingly. ”Oh, certainly not.
I mean, you want to learn the things of America, so you can love this country, and make it yours. Then you will forget that other land from which you came, and know this for your own, now and forever.”
Eveley was arrested by the steady gleam of a pair of eyes in the middle of the row. There was open denial and disbelief written in every feature and line of his face.
”Why?” came the terse query, as Eveley paused.
Eveley gazed upon him in wonderment. ”Wh-what did you say?”
”I said, why?”
”Well, why not?” she countered nervously. ”This is your country now. You must love it best in all the world, and must grow to be like us,--one of us,--America for Americans only, you know.”
”You tell us to forget the land we came from,” he said in an even impersonal voice. ”Is that patriotism,--to forget the land of your birth?
I thought patriotism was to remember your home-land,--holding it in your heart,--hoping to return to it again,--and make it better.”
”But--but that is not patriotism to this country,” protested Eveley, aghast. ”That is--disloyalty. If you wish to be always of your own land, and to love it best, you should stay there. If you come here, to get our training, our education, our development, our riches,--then this must be your country, and no other.”
”Why?” he asked again. ”Why should we not come here and get all the good things you can give us, and learn what you can teach us, and take what money we can earn, and then go back with all these good things to make our own land bigger and better and richer? That is patriotism, I think.”
”No, no,” protested Eveley again. ”That is not loyalty. If you choose this country for your home, it must be first in your heart, and last also. This is your home-land now,--the land you believe in, the land of your love, America first.”
”But America was not first. The home-land was first.”
”Yes, it was first,” she admitted pacifically. ”But America is last.
America is the final touch. And so now you will learn our language, our games, our business, our way of life. You will live here, work here, and if war comes again you will die for America.”
Then she went on very quickly, fearful of interruptions that were proving so disastrous. ”That is why we are organizing this little club, you boys and I. We are going to talk together. We are going to play together. We are going to study together. So you can learn American ways in all things. Now what kind of club shall we have? That is the American way of doing things. It is not my club, but yours. You are the people, and so you must decide.”
A long and profound silence followed, evidently indicative of deep thought.
”A baseball club,” at last suggested a small j.a.p with a bashful smile.
”That is a splendid idea,” cried Eveley brightly. ”Baseball is a good American sport, a clean, lively game. Now what shall we call our baseball club?”
Again deep thought, but in a moment from an earnest Jewish boy came the suggestion, ”The Irish-American Baseball League.”
Eveley searched his face carefully, looking for traces of irony. But the pinched thin features were earnest, the eyes alight with pleased gratification at his readiness of retort.
A hum of approval indicated that the Irish-American League had met with favor. But Eveley wavered.
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