Part 20 (1/2)

”What does the dear old flag stand for?” he repeated. ”For liber--No--for-r-r----Well, 'pon my word, what does she stand for?”

”For the army and navy,” whispered a neighbor.

”Yes,” he thundered. ”Yes, the flag stands for the army and navy, for our officers and men, for our men-of-war and artillery, for our cavalry and infantry, that's what she stands for!”

This was received with great applause, and the speaker smiled with satisfaction. Then gradually his expression became sad.

”I am sorry to say,” he said,--”I am ashamed as a citizen of our great land to be obliged to admit, that there are at home a few craven-hearted, mean-spirited men--shall I call them men? No, nor even women--there are creatures, I say, who disapprove of our glorious deeds, who spurn the flag and the n.o.ble principles for which it stands and to which I have alluded, who say that we have no business to take away land which belongs to other people, and that we have not the right to slaughter rebels and traitors in our midst. I appeal to the patriotic Cubapinos at this board, if we are not introducing a higher and n.o.bler civilization into these islands.”

The native gentlemen bowed a.s.sent.

”Have we not given them a better language than their own? Have we not established our enlightened inst.i.tutions? For instance, let me cite the custom house. We have the collector here with us--and the post-office.

The postmaster is----”

”Sh-sh-s.h.!.+” whispered the prompter again. ”He's in jail.”

”I mean the a.s.sistant postmaster is also with us. And there are our other inst.i.tutions, the----”

”There's going to be a prize-fight to-night,” cried a young lieutenant who had taken too much wine, at the foot of the table. ”Dandy Sullivan against Joe Corker.”

This interruption was too much for the commissioner, who was quite unable to resume the thread of his remarks for several moments. The guests in the mean time moved uneasily in their seats, for most of them were anxious to be off to see the fight.

”Those who carp against us at home,” continued the speaker, trying in vain to find some graceful way of coming to a close, ”those who dishonor the flag are the men who pretend to be filled with humanity and to desire the welfare of mankind. They pretend to object to bloodshed. They are mere sentimentalists. They are not practical men.

They do not understand our destiny, nor the Const.i.tution, nor progress, nor civilization, nor glory, nor honor, nor the dear old flag, G.o.d bless her. They are sentimentalists. They have no sense of humor.”

Here the audience applauded loudly, altho the speaker had not intended to have them applaud just there. It occurred to him that he might just as well stop at this point, and he sat down, not altogether satisfied, however, with his peroration and vexed to think that he had forgotten Sam altogether. The party broke up without delay, and Sam walked off with Cleary, who had been present, to see the prize-fight.

”The commissioner isn't much of a talker, is he?” said Cleary. ”That was a bad break about the postmaster. I hear they've arrested Captain Jones for embezzlement too.”

”Good heavens!” cried Sam, ”what an outrage!” And he told Cleary of his narrow escape from complicity in the matter, and how the military operations had prevented him from calling on the contractors.

”Civilians don't understand these things,” he added. ”They oughtn't to send them out here. They don't understand things.”

”No. They haven't been brought up on tabasco sauce. What can you expect of them?”

They soon arrived at the Alhambra Theater at which the fight was to take place, and found it in progress. A large crowd was collected, consisting of soldiers and natives in equal proportions. The last round was just finis.h.i.+ng, and Joe Corker was in the act of knocking his opponent out. The audience was shouting with glee and excitement, the cheers being mixed with hisses and cries of ”Fake, fake!”

”I know Corker,” said Cleary. ”Come, I'll introduce you.”

They pushed forward through the crowd, and were soon in a room behind the stage, where Corker was being rubbed and washed down by his a.s.sistants. Sam looked at the great man and felt rather small and insignificant. ”Here's a kind of civilian who is not inferior to army men,” he thought. ”Perhaps he is even superior.” He would not have said this aloud, but he thought it.

”How de do, Joe?” said Cleary, shaking hands. ”That was a great fight.

You knocked him out clean. Here's my friend, Colonel Jinks, the hero of San Diego and the pacifier of the Moritos.”

Corker nodded condescendingly.

”We enjoyed the fight very much,” said Sam, not altogether at his ease.

”It reminded me of my own experience at East Point.”

”It was a good fight,” said Corker, ”and a d.a.m.ned fair one too. I'd like to punch the heads of those fellers who cried 'fake.' It was as fair as fair could be, and Dandy and me was as evenly matched as two peas. I always believe in takin' a feller of your size, and I did.”