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The Yankee does not appear well in spectacular heroics. His history is a brief one. He has few heroes. He has not learned the ritual of hero-worship. So when the occasion comes that requires elaborate stage settings and grand maneuvering, the Yankee's performance often falls short. Ask the Yankee to pass the hat for the monument fund, or to take the contract for building the monument, or to dream out some inspiring design for the bronze memorial pile, and he is ready for the task. But appoint him on the committee to ride in the carriage, at the unveiling of the statue, with the grandson of the hero whose deeds have seemed to justify the graven image, and the Yankee's first impulse is to run. His sense of humor overcomes his vanity. So when he goes to war, a business in which there is a preliminary display of rooster feathers, brass braid, and tomfoolery, the American goes with a deprecatory, shamefaced manner. This apologetic air clings to him until he gets into the thick of the fight, where death or glory waits for him at sundown.
When the year 1898 came in, the steam whistles screamed for prosperity; the saluting cannons boomed for business; even the church bells rang out the old period of depression, and rang in the new era of commercial activity. In American hearts there was no higher hope for the new year than a hope for a year of peace and plenty. Less than a third of the year had passed before the Americans were willing to let business go hang; and the American whistles shrieked, the big guns roared, and the church bells clamored for war. The interests of the country changed in a few weeks. The change was not an outward one. Trains ran on their scheduled time. Business men hurried to business. The wheel at the cistern was not broken; but there was a new motive guiding it. The public mind ceased wishing for prosperity; it began longing for victory at arms.
The Yankee did not gather in hoarse-voiced mobs. He did not lose time from his work. A minute or two with a bulletin board at noon, and another over the newspaper before supper and before breakfast, were lost—but that was all. Here and there was a new hired man on the farm, a new printer at the case, a promotion in the business office, a vacancy in the mailing department, a man less at the ribbon counter, a switchman who
