“No, lad. It won’t last forever. Here’s the whole idea in just a mouthful of words: For years the South has been getting ready. And for years, up North, we’ve been saying there’d be no war. So, when the real fighting began, it was like a middleweight, trained to the minute, tackling a great big lazy giant who was in bad condition.
“The middleweight has hammered the giant all around the ring in most of the fights so far. But every day the giant is getting wiser and stronger and more used to fighting. And pretty soon his weight and strength has got to begin to tell.
“The South is made up of men who are fighting like heroes. But there aren’t enough of them, and they have mighty few resources, and every day they grow fewer, and their resources get weaker. And the North’s men and money will never give out. Pretty soon the difference has got to show.
“Be patient. We’re fighting for our Union, we Northerners. For the country that my grandfather helped to make free, and that my great-grandfather helped to win from the Indians and the Frenchies. And that country and the Union are going to last forever; no matter how black the sky happens to look just now, make up your mind to that!”
“But, see,” urged the boy impatiently; “they beat us on the Peninsula. And now Lee and Jackson have driven us clean back to Maryland. And they’re coming after us into the North, so the papers say.”
“Yes,” assented Dad. “They’re coming after us into the North. And they may do as they boast and ‘stable their horses in Boston’s Faneuil Hall,’ before we can drive them back. But we will drive them back. Soon or late, son. Don’t doubt that, either, for a minute. As soon as the giant is strong enough. And he gets stronger every day.
“They drove us out of the Peninsula. And now that he’s licked us so easy on his own ground, Lee’s getting ready to try a turn at us on ours. Whether he can get past us or not—”
“Shucks!” growled Jimmie. “I’m sick of waiting. Here, the war was started to free the slaves. And what does Lincoln do? Hasn’t raised a finger to free ’em. Why, if he’d freed ’em all at the start, and then kept plugging away at Richmond—”
“Don’t be foolish, son,” exhorted Dad, “and the foolishest thing on earth you can do is to join in the howl against Mr. Lincoln. He’s doing the only thing that can be done. And he’s the only man in America that can do it.
“Suppose he’d ordered all the slaves set free. What would have happened? About the same thing that would happen if we ordered the sun to shine at night instead of in the day. Nothing does a boss so much harm as to give an order he can’t enforce. And if he declared the slaves free until he was black in the face, they wouldn’t be free. He must wait till the tide turns. And the giant begins to hold his own against the middleweight before he can give the order. In the meantime—”