W. Ws.
and smashed the printing presses and typewriters of the Socialists,
but he made it unmistakably clear that that was what he wanted, and
Peter's bosom swelled with happy pride. It was something to a man to
know that he was serving his country and keeping the old flag
waving; but it was still more to know that he was enlisted in the
service of the Almighty, that Heaven and all its hosts were on his
side, and that everything he had done had the sanction of the
Almighty's divinely ordained minister, speaking in the Almighty's
holy temple, in the midst of stained-glass windows and brightly
burning candles and the ravishing odor of incense, and of Easter
lilies and of mignonette and lavender in the handkerchiefs of
delicately gowned and exquisite ladies from Mount Olympus. This, to
be sure, was mixing mythologies, but Peter's education had been
neglected in his youth, and Peter could not be blamed for taking the
great ones of the earth as they were, and believing what they taught
him.
The white robed choir marched out, and the music of "Onward
Christian Soldiers" faded away, and Peter and his lady went out from
the Church of the Divine Compassion, and strolled on the avenue
again, and when they had sufficiently filled their nostrils with the
sweet odors of snobbery, they turned into the park, where there were
places of seclusion for young couples interested in each other.
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