The Flag of the Union Forever

Fitzhugh Lee

It is a great art to tell well an illustrative story such as is contained in the first paragraph of this speech. Tell it naturally and in a colloquial, off-hand way, not failing to bring out the point at the close by dwelling upon the word "lye." Then, after a fairly long pause, there is a marked change in the delivery as the second paragraph is reached. More seriousness is required, and this should be maintained with gradually increasing force to the end.

You have all heard of "George Washington and his little hatchet." The other day I heard a story that was a little variation upon the original, and I am going to take up your time for a minute by repeating it to you. It was to this effect: Mr. and Mrs. Washington, the parents of George, found on one occasion that their supply of soap for the use of the family at Westmoreland had been exhausted, and so they decided to make some family soap. They made the necessary arrangements and gave the requisite instructions to the family servant. After an hour or so the servant returned and reported to them that he could not make that soap. "Why not," he was asked; "haven't you all the materials?" "Yes," he replied; "but there is something wrong." The old folks proceeded to investigate, and they found they had actually got the ashes of the little cherry tree that George had cut down with his hatchet, and there was no lye in it!

Now, I assure you, there is no "lie" in what I say to you to-day, and that is, that I thank God for the sun of the Union which, once obscured,

is now again in the full stage of its glory. We have had our differences. I do not see, upon reading history, how they could well have been avoided. The sword, at any rate, settled the controversy. But that is behind us. We have now a great and glorious future in front of us, and it is Virginia's duty to do all that she can to promote the honor and glory of this country. We fought to the best of our ability for four years; and it would be a great mistake to assume that you could bring men from their cabins, from their plows, from their houses, and from their families to make them fight as they fought in that contest unless they were fighting for a belief. Those men believed that they had the right construction of the Constitution, and that a state that voluntarily entered the Union could voluntarily withdraw from it. They did not fight for Confederate money. It was not worth ten cents a yard. They did not fight for Confederate rations-you would have had to curtail the demands of your appetite to make it correspond with the size and quality of those rations. They fought for what they thought was a proper construction of the Constitution. They were defeated. They acknowledged their defeat. They came back to their father's house, and there they are going to stay. But if we are to continue prosperous, if this country, stretching from the Gulf to the Lakes and from ocean to ocean, is to be mindful of its own best interests, in the future we will have to make concessions and compliances, we will have to bear with each other and respect each other's

opinions. Then we will find that that harmony will be secured which is as necessary for the welfare of states as it is for the welfare of individuals. If all the people prior to our Civil War had been known to each other, or had been thrown together in business or social communication, the fact would have been recognized at the outset, as it is today, that there are just as good men in Texas as there are in Maine. Human nature is everywhere the same; and when intestine strifes occur we will doubtless always be able by a conservative, pacific course to pass smoothly over the rugged, rocky edges, and the old Ship of State will be brought into a safe, commodious, Constitutional harbor with the flag of the Union flying over her, and there it shall remain.

Houston's Crowning Glory

M. E. Kleberg

The story of Sam Houston and the decisive battle of San Jacinto is of never-failing interest to students of American history. In study. ing the following selection for delivery, note the strong climax at the close of the second paragraph. The third paragraph continues the narrative, another strong climax being reached when the "command" to charge is given. At this point rapid and strong force are required, continuing through the sentence ending with "flight." Pause at this point and employ slower rate, but with no abatement of force.

THE fate of the Alamo and Goliad hung like a deepening shadow over the whole land, and filled the heart of every true Texan with inexpressible grief. But it also ripened in his mind the unalterable resolution to avenge his murdered countrymen and forever rescue his home from

Mexican despotism. All eyes were turned to General Houston, and in him and his little army centered the last hope of the Texans. At the time of the massacre of the Alamo and Goliad, General Houston, with an army of about 350 men, was at or near Gonzales, and immediately began his famous retreat toward the east.

As the retreat continued, the country behind was abandoned to the merciless foe and the torch of the more savage Indian. Their husbands and fathers in the army, no one remained at home to care for the defenseless women and children, and they were forced to desert hearth and home, and seek refuge in flight for personal safety. Women and their little children, with no other conveyance than the backs of Spanish ponies, no roads to travel save the paths of the wilderness, and no roofs to shelter them at night save the canopy of heaven, were the vanguard of the retreating army. But privations and perils before which the stoutest heart would quail served only to unfold the sublime courage of true womanhood, and whether finding the unknown paths of the wilderness or as sentinels over their children in the lonely watches of the night, these heroic daughters of Texas bore, with unflinching fortitude, the dangers and hardships of war, and by their noble example rallied those that grew faint-hearted or hopeless amid the distress of the hour.

The retreat continued until the Texas army, increased to 750 men, reached San Jacinto, closely followed by a Mexican force under Santa Anna,

1600 strong. The great day contemplated by the military plans of General Houston had dawned. Clear and bright rises the sun on the morning of the memorable 21st of April, 1836. In his course he has reached his western decline and his beams fall upon the Texas army in full battle array. Upon the fortunes of this day hang the destinies of an empire, and free government and human liberty tremble in the balance. The army of the invader rests in confidence behind breastworks, heedless of impending fate and unconscious of the splendid strategy of the Texan commander, and the dauntless courage of his soldiers. Down the lines runs the command of General Houston, and forward rush his intrepid columns, the battle cry, "Remember the Alamo! Remember Goliad!" ringing in the air. Amid the boom of cannon and the rattle of musketry the enemy's breastworks are stormed, and men lock shields in the fearful throes of battle. Within twenty minutes the great Mexi

army of operations is annihilated-dead, wounded, captured or scattered in flight. The meteor of conquest that lured the ambitious dictator into the border of our land has forever vanished. In its place, at high meridian, blazes and sparkles in unrivaled splendor the Lone Star of the Republic of Texas, and from hilltop to mountain summit there rings the gladsome tidings, "Liberty and Independence-Texas is free.”