“I hope you don’t wish me to take you seriously.”
“No,” interposed Edith; “no one shall take him seriously. The idea! If he talks war like this, we’ll lock him up in the dark-room.”
“With nothing to eat but pyro and hypo,” laughed Mrs. Hartel.
“Look out!” pursued the Doctor, with a twinkle in his eye, “or the Captain may indignantly resign his commission.”
“Anyway,” said Allan, “if I was a few years older, I’d join Company K.”
The fate of the Maine and the prospect of war entirely changed the current of photographic enthusiasm at the club. The boys, especially, turned unanimously to war themes. Owen had made some pictures at the Brooklyn Navy Yard when he first had his camera. He had a picture of the Boston taking coal, and another showing the terrible twin guns in the forward turret of the New York. At the second lantern show in February, Major Mines displayed the mechanism of some of the rapid-fire guns, and had a capital plate showing the disappearing gun at Sandy Hook. The pictures were all quite warlike at this February meeting.
At the March meetings there came pictures of the forts in the harbor, camera sketches by Mr. Thornton from the State Camp at Peekskill the year before, and Mrs. Creigh’s picture made on the deck of the Maine.
Then came the declaration of war, the thrill of Dewey’s victory at Manila, the capture of the first sea prizes, the stir and excitement of recruiting. Big McConnell joined Company K.
Hazenfield broke out with all sorts of flags. Little McConnell boasted that he hoisted the first flag in the town; though this seemed to be a matter of debate, since Allan had swung out the Hartel flag immediately after breakfast on reading of the actual declaration of war.
