The country was up
in arms, the war was on,
in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing, the toy pistols popping, the bunched firecrackers hissing and spluttering; on every hand and far down the receding and fading spread of roofs and balconies a fulttering
wilderness of flags flashed
in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue gay and fine
in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with
voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings listened, panting, to patriot oratory with
stirred the deepest deeps of their hearts, and which they interrupted at briefest intervals with cyclones of applause, the tears running down their cheeks the while;
in the churches the pastors preached devotion to flag and country, and invoked the God of Battles beseeching His aid
in our good cause
in outpourings of fervid eloquence which moved every listener.