Bowing his thanks, Foster joined Mrs. Whitney and immediately began one
of those adroit, well-worded addresses which had made him a marked man
in the Senate. "I come to you a special pleader," he continued, with
growing earnestness, "to spread the gospel of peace. It is your
privilege to weld public opinion, and opinion can be as a yoke upon a
man's neck. In this free America opinion governs. Jingoes would try to
plunge us into war. When a boy is given an airgun, his first impulse is
to go out and shoot it off. Arm the men of this country and their
impulse will be the same. A small standing army does not tend to
militarism; its size does not lend itself to the issuing of imperative
mandates; and mandates, ladies, lead to war.

"It is especially a woman's duty to demand peace. In war, upon the woman
falls the suffering and the sacrifice. The lover, the brother, the
father, the son may find honorable death upon the field, but at home the
woman pays. God pity the woman left desolate and alone, her loved ones
sacrificed on the altar of militarism!

"And mothers? What of your children and the fate of yet unborn
generations? Are they brought into the world to be tools of militarism?
Lift up your voice for peace; carry the message, 'Peace on earth' to the
very portals of Congress. Make any and every sacrifice, but guard your
man child."

As Foster stopped speaking enthusiastic applause broke out, and a rising
vote of thanks was given him. As the gratified Senator stepped down from
the platform he found himself by Miss Kiametia's side.

"I did it to please you, Kiametia," he whispered, holding her hand
tightly. "Have I earned one kind word?"