While working on a sermon the pastor heard a knock at his office door. "Come in," he invited. A sad-looking man in threadbare clothes came in, pulling a large pig on a rope. "Can I talk to you for a minute?" asked the ma... Read more of Frog Jokes at Free Jokes.caInformational Site Network Informational
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War Stories

Killing The Soul
As the centuries pass, the greatest glory of any nation, it...

Bacilli And Bullets
Sir William Osler, one of the greatest medical men in the w...

A Belgian Lawyer's Appeal
One of the great lawyers of Belgium in behalf of the member...

The Charge Of The Black Watch And The Scots Greys
Sometimes a retreat is in reality a great victory. It has b...

The God In Man
A soldier on the firing step, aiming at the enemy, is sudde...

The Murder Of Captain Fryatt
Captain Charles Fryatt was in command of a British steamshi...

The Destruction Of Louvain
More than one hundred years ago, Napoleon, the famous Frenc...

The Belgian Prince
The Belgian Prince was a British cargo steamer. On a voyage...

The Queen's Flower
On July 25, 1918, nearly every person in Washington, the ca...

War Dogs
The story of "The Animals Going to War" tells how, one by o...

Marshal Joffre
The greatest leaders in history are often men who for the l...

Daring The Undarable
We are thirty in the hands of Fate And thirty-one wi...

A Place In The Sun
The history of Rome about 1500 years ago tells us of "the w...

The World War
The story of the World War is the story of the control of t...

Defense Of LiÉge
To Germany's unfair and treacherous proposal that Belgium b...

Edith Cavell
Americans are particularly interested in the story of Edith...

Carry On!
It's easy to fight when everything's right, And yo...

Marshal Foch
A Great German philosopher said many years ago that history...

The Mexican Plot
It is true that Germany does not know the meaning of honest...

The Hun Target The Red Cross
All the civilized nations of the world have agreed to respe...



And The Cock Crew






"I hate them all!" said old Gaspard,
And in his weather-beaten face
The lines of bitterness grew hard,
For he had seen his dwelling-place
Laid waste in very wantonness,
And all his little treasures flung
Into that never-sated press
From which no wine, but gall, had sprung--
And not his heart alone was sore,
For in his frail old limbs he bore
Wounds of the heavy, ruthless hand
That weighed so cruelly of late
Upon the people and the land.
It was not hard to understand
Why old Gaspard should hate
Even the German lad who lay
His neighbor in the hospital,
The boy who pleaded night and day:
"Don't let me die! don't let me die!
When I see the dawn, I know
I shall live out that day, and then
I'm not afraid--till dark--but oh,
How soon the night comes round again!
Don't let me die! don't let me die!"

The old man muttered at each low,
Pitiful, half delirious cry,
"They should die, had I the say,
In hell's own torment, one and all!"
And then would drag himself away,
Despite each motion's agony,
To where the wounded poilus lay,
And cheer them with his mimicry
Of barnyard noises, and his gay
Old songs of what life used to be.
One night the lad suddenly cried,
"Mother!" And though the sister knew--
He was so young, so terrified,
"You're safe--the east is light," she lied.
But "No!" he sobbed, "the cock must crow
Before the dawn!" They did not hear
A cripple crawl across the floor,
But all at once, outside the door,
In the courtyard, shrill and clear,
Once, twice and thrice, chanticleer crew.
The blue eyes closed and the boy sighed,
"I'm not afraid, now day's begun.
I'll live--till--" With a smile, he died.

And in that hour when he denied
The god of hate, I think that One
Passed through the hospital's dim yard
And turning, looked on old Gaspard.

AMELIA JOSEPHINE BURR.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] COPYRIGHT BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY





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