The Trumpeter Swan by Temple Bailey
page 25 of 363 (06%)
page 25 of 363 (06%)
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"_On Flanders field--where poppies blow_"--the Major drew a sudden
quick breath---- He wished there were no poppies at King's Crest. "I hate this hero stuff," Randy was saying, "don't you?" "I am not so sure that I do. Down deep we'd resent it if we were not applauded, shouldn't we?" Randy laughed. "I believe we should." "I fancy that when we've been home for a time, we may feel somewhat bitter if we find that our pedestals are knocked from under us. Our people don't worship long. They have too much to think of. They'll put up some arches, and a few statues and build tribute houses in a lot of towns, and then they'll go on about their business, and we who have fought will feel a bit blank." Randy laughed, "you haven't any illusions about it, have you?" "No, but you and I know that it's all right however it goes." Randy, standing very straight, looked out over the valley where the river showed through the rain like a silver thread. "Well, we didn't do it for praise, did we?" "No, thank God." Their eyes were seeing other things than these quiet hills. Things they wanted to forget. But they did not want to forget the high exaltation which had sent them over, or the quiet conviction of right |
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