A few of the neighbors held a meeting to arrange for a Fourth of July
picnic that was to be held in the grove near the big spring that
breaks through the rocky banks of the Wakarusa one and a half miles
below the stone bridge, and they had quite a dispute over whether
they would invite John Martin or Joseph G. Waters to make the speech.
An old mossback Democrat insisted that they have Martin. He said that
Martin was a real Jeffersonian Democrat, and knew more about what the
Fourth of July was made for than anybody else. A couple of younger
men in the crowd insisted on having Joe Waters. They said that Joe
was a Republican sure enough, but not Republican enough to hurt, and
that he made a stem-windin' good speech. After considerable wrangle
it was decided to invite Joe, and he consented to make the talk.
On the morning of the Fourth, along all the trails and roads people
traveled, finding their way to the grove; and just about noon Captain
Waters arrived with a livery team and buggy, with a negro boy
driving; and he drove smashing and stomping in a reckless manner all
around among the trees, almost running over some of the dinner
baskets that were set about on the ground. The Captain took charge
from the time he arrived. Everything that was done, he had to tell
how to do it. One old woman had built a little fire between a couple
of rocks to make some coffee, and he went up to her and told her that
it was just as fair to drink coffee on the Fourth of July as on
Christmas, and that he knew more about making coffee than the man who
invented it. And in spite of her protests he made the coffee, and, of
course, was welcome to help drink it.
After dinner, they backed a wagon up to an open place on the ground
where some seats had been arranged, and Joe jumped in, and then
reached for and pulled at the old man Kosier, who climbed up and
called the crowd to order, made a few remarks on his own account, and
then introduced and started off the Captain.
Joe stretched up his arms and called loudly for everyone to draw
near. He said that he proposed to ask some questions and find out
some things before he decided whether he would make a speech to such
a crowd. "First," he said, "I want to know why you call that man Big
Aaron Coberly, and that one Little Aaron;" and as he spoke he pointed
to Aaron, Senior, who weighed one hundred and forty pounds, and then
to Aaron, Junior, who weighed two hundred and forty. An old lady's
voice, cracked, but earnest, piped up:
"Big Aaron used to be the biggest--he was grown up when little Aaron
was a baby."
"Fair enough," said Joe; and everybody laughed.
"Another thing," said Joe, "I want to know whether you people are up
on figures or whether you are a bunch of joshers. I heard Dick Disney
ask Coker what he would take for his lower eighty, and Coker said he
would take sixteen hundred dollars for it. Dick said he'd be damned
if he'd give it--he would give twenty dollars per acre and no more.
Coker told him to go to hell; and just then Wash Berry, Bill Cartmill
and a half a dozen others crowded around and told them they ought to
compromise. This talk was pulled off within ten feet of me," said Joe
in a loud voice, "and I want to know if you think you can play horse
with me, or is it possible you're all crazy in your arithmetic?"
A youngster yelled, "It's you 'at's crazy," and ran off through the
woods.
After several further inquiries of this character the Captain said he
was satisfied, and would go on with his talk.
It was a great day for Joe, and the people too; and there are some of
them now who remember different portions of his speech, and
especially one part that was more or less prophetic of the destiny of
our country and of the fact that our soldiers might have to serve
across the seas. This part was as follows:
"If I see the flag in unending line flung high up the city's wall,
shining and shimmering all day long, it is my flag, bless God! If far
out on the bleak desert, parched, barren and desolate, I see it fluff
and flutter about the white adobe walls of the fort, it is my flag.
If far at sea beneath the unclouded sky, the sun silvering the
endless billows, it rises out of the eternal depths in its rippling
folds, my blood may chill, my eyes may fill, my heart may still, for
it is my flag that crests the ocean. If in a strange and alien land,
alone, solitary and homesick, the pomp of royalty on every hand,
suddenly there should burst in view, way up the shaded avenue, the
glory, red and white and blue, oh, for the Kaiser and his crown, on
me and mine to then look down, I'd lift my head and proudly say,
'That is my flag you see today, and isn't it a dandy, eh?' And I
would tell his ermined queen, of all the heavens and earth between,
it is the grandest thing that flies, o'er land or sea, beneath the
skies! And as the years may go, as falls the snow, as flowers may
blow, come weal or woe, that banner is my flag, I know."
At the close of the day, the chairman of the committee was heard to
remark:
"Well, considerin' as how Joe wouldn't take any pay, and insisted on
paying for the livery horses himself, and then bought out the stand
of all the candy and cigars and give it all away among the crowd--I
guess we got our money's worth."