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Vielhaber had given him lots of apple cake that was almost like an apple pie, but without any top on it; and they had a lovely picture that would look well beside the lion picture, but it would probably cost too much money; and they had a monkey, a German monkey, that was just like a little old man; and once, thousands of years ago, when the Bible was going on, we were all monkeys and lived in trees, but a constant force made us stand and walk like people.
Rapp, Senior, said that was all very well, but these pacifists would keep us out of war yet. Doctor Purdy, with whom he had finished a game of pinochle Herman Vielhaber had lately been unable to keep his mind on the game set down his beer stein in an authoritative manner, having exploded with rage even while he swallowed some of the last decent beer to come to Newbern Center.
Minna Vielhaber wept back of the bar at Herman's affecting picture of the stricken deer with the arrow in her flank, and would be comforted only when he brought the war to a proper close. It was at this time that Winona wrote in her journal: "General Sherman said that war is the bad place. He knew."
The truck was being loaded with the brewery's enlivening product. The brewery was red, the truck yellow, the horses gray, and the workmen were clad in blue, and above all was a flawless sky of blue. It was a spirited picture, and the Wilbur twin was instantly enamoured of it. He wished he might have seen this yesterday, when he was rich. Maybe Mr. Vielhaber would have sold it.
They keep in training. They don't say, like that poor old maunderer I read this morning, that there's no use preparing that a million phagocytes will spring to arms overnight if their country's invaded. They keep in trim. They fight quick. If they didn't we wouldn't be here." "These phagocytes is infantry, yes?" demanded Herman Vielhaber. "I never hear 'em named before like that."
And I hope you come back strong and hearty and live a long time in a world you helped to put it right. I hope some day you have children will be proud because you was good Americans, like mine would be if we had a little one. I hope you teach 'em to fight quick for their own good country. Now prosit!" They drank, and in the stillness Minna Vielhaber was again heard to be lamenting.
They were far off "over where the war was taking place," as Spike neatly put it surveying at that long range the well-remembered scene; revisiting it from some remote spot where perhaps it had been said to them with flowers. "We'd ought to tell Herman Vielhaber," said Spike. "Herman's a Heinie, but he's a good scout at that." "Sure!" agreed Wilbur.
They found Herman alone at one of his tables staring morosely at an untouched glass of beer. The Vielhaber establishment was already suffering under the stigma of pro-Germanism put upon it by certain of the watchful towns-people.
This one he had heard on a late Sunday afternoon when he sat, contrary to a municipal ordinance of Newbern, in the back room of Herman Vielhaber, with certain officials sworn to uphold that ordinance, who drank beer and talked largely about what we should do; for it had then become shockingly apparent that the phrase about our being too proud to fight had been, in its essential meaning, misleading.
Rapp, Senior, said he didn't care anything about that it was the interests he was down on. Herman Vielhaber, melding eighty kings, said it was a good rich-man's country, but also a good poor-man's country, because where could you find one half as good not in all Europe and he now laid down forty jacks, which he huskily called "yacks."
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