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Updated: June 10, 2025
Then I'll meet you later, and bring you home dead or alive!" Maxwell laughed. "That sounds cheerful, but I should be glad to go." "I guess you better, and have it over with. He'll expect it. He's like royalty: he never calls first; and when he's at home he always has a flag on a pole in the front yard. If he's out of town for the day, his man lowers the flag. I generally call when the flag's down.
"'Oh! many are the poets that are sown by Nature," thought the minister, quoting Wordsworth to himself. "And I wonder what becomes of them! That's a pretty idea, little Rebecca, and I don't know whether you or my wife ought to have the more praise. What made you think of the stars lying on the flag's 'mother-breast'? Were did you get that word?"
True it is that the sun never sets on the English flag; and one finds much to remind him, too, that the sun never sets on the graves of that flag's defenders. Scattered through every zone and clime are they: countless thousands of them far, far from the land that gave them birth.
"'Cause the flag's fleein'. Whaur is he?" "Gin ye ken sae muckle aboot him already, ye can jist fin' him to yersel'!" "The bick's oot!" panted Linkum. But Mary shut the door. "Here's a job!" said Linkum to himself. "I canna gang throu a steekit door. And there's Juno wi' the rin o' the haill toun. Deil tak her!"
At the head of the line marched acting First Sergeant Overton, setting a stiff pace. For an instant Prescott stood still, eying his men as they swept by. Then he ran to the head of the line, falling in beside the young sergeant. They were off on the Flag's business! It was a deserted road over which the detachment marched.
Yet all the more because of the scene, a scene that quelled even the haunting strain of song, that other note, that wail which, the long day through, had writhed unreleased in her bosom, rose, silent still, yet only the stronger and more importunate "Oh, Hilary, my soldier, my flag's, my country's defender, come back to me here! now! my yet living hero, my Hilary Kincaid!"
Sir John Biddell and Harry Snell, the newspaper man, came gallumping up on their camels before I could stuff the flag into my pocket. "What's the matter?" they asked, as their animals squatted to let them down. "Were you run away with? What are you so mad about? Hullo! What flag's that C-O-O-K!" "It should be over the kitchen-tent," I heard myself explaining. "Don't you see?
Far along the road, in the first glare of the rising sun, flew the Stars and Stripes above a little cottage within the confines of the village. "Headquarters," one of his companions said, laconically. "Does it mean we've won?" Tom asked. "Not exactly yet," the other answered, "but as long as the flag's up they probably won't bother to take it down," and he looked at Tom in a queer way.
The contract trader would soon arrive, supported if need be by the authority of his flag's navy, bringing to my cannibals, or some of them, long terms of peonage under hard plantation masters. "What, if I may ask," suggested the solemn-visaged Scot at the helm, when the bow was turned outward and the boat crew was bending to the oars, "was all the demonstration of th' niggers?"
So I'm going to have it end like this: I did n't write it, I just sewed it while I was working on my star: "For it's your star, my star, all the stars together, That make our country's flag so proud To float in the bright fall weather. Northern stars, Southern stars, stars of the East and West, Side by side they lie at peace On the dear flag's mother-breast."
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