At that meeting a half dozen of Orham's best young fellows had
expressed their desire to fight for Uncle Sam. The Orham band--
minus its first cornet, who was himself one of the volunteers--had
serenaded them at the railway station and the Congregational
minister and Lawyer Poundberry of the Board of Selectmen had made
speeches. Captain Sam Hunniwell, being called upon to say a few
words, had said a few--perhaps, considering the feelings of the
minister and the feminine members of his flock present, it is well
they were not more numerous.

"Good luck to you, boys," said Captain Sam. "I wish to the
Almighty I was young enough to go with you. And say, if you see
that Kaiser anywheres afloat or ashore give him particular merry
hell for me, will you?"

And then, a little later, came the news that the conscription bill
had become a law and that the draft was to be a reality. And with
that news the war itself became a little more real. And, suddenly,
Phineas Babbitt, realizing that his son, Leander, was twenty-five
years old and, therefore, within the limits of the draft age,
became once more an ardent, if a little more careful, conscientious
objector.

He discovered that the war was a profiteering enterprise engineered
by capital and greed for the exploiting of labor and the common
people. Whenever he thought it safe to do so he aired these
opinions and, as there were a few of what Captain Hunniwell called
"yellow-backed swabs" in Orham or its neighborhood, he occasionally
had sympathetic listeners. Phineas, it is only fair to say, had