With all his assurance, Ed was completely taken back. He actually looked frightened. The Captain's tone now changed to one of irony.
"I suppose," he said, "you believe in flying machines."
Ed hesitated.
"And in woman suffrage!"
The art of scorn has fallen sadly into disrepute in these later days. Scorn fares hardly in an age of doubt and democracy. I can rarely feel it myself; but as it came rolling out of the old Captain that morning, I'll admit there was something grand about it.
By this time Ed had begun to recover himself.
"Well, we got to live, haven't we?" he asked.
It was very rare that the old Captain swore, for he was a sound Churchman, and when he did swear it was with a sort of reverence.
"No, by God," said the Captain, "we haven't got to live, we haven't got to live; but, by God! we've got to stand for the nation—and the Constitution—and the Republican party!"
He paused, threw back his beautiful old head, and shook his mane just a little. (How he would have liked to see himself at that moment!)