WAR
my life—and, by hokey, the reason was that three trees in a northerly line from the window had been cut down!
I rode over.
"Ben," I says, "why did you cut those nice old trees down?"
"Fire-wood," says Ben briefly. "This war'll be making us do worse things than that before it's over. We'll be burning up our grain, eating our horses, and cows and mules, et cetera. About the only thing that will be plenty, presently, will be pure spring water—and I'd hate to live on that. A dollar'll cost two dollars and a half before the thing is done, and you'll have to give your farm to get a suit of clothes. Are you still so crazy for it?"
"I never was," says I. "I'm peaceful."
"So am I. Then why don't you help to stop it?" yells Ben. "No one can be peaceful. It's one side or the other. Where are you?"
"Me?" I says. "How can I stop it?"
"By fighting—joining the Knights—helping
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