That same evening we arrived at Wilkes-Barre and addressed a fairly large meeting in the Y. M. C. A. auditorium. I must honestly admit that I missed the wonderful spirit displayed at Towanda and Tunkhannock. This may be owing to the fact that the city is a large one, and visited a good deal by war lecturers. However, the men we met impressed us greatly, as we all chatted after the meeting in the local club.
The next morning we took a trolley car for Scranton. Scranton! If every town in France, England, Italy, and the United States possessed the spirit displayed by the citizens of Scranton, the war would go with a rush. I had friends in Scranton,—a boy and a girl married to one another, and now possessing a wee friendly baby, and they insisted upon my staying with them. At 7.45 we motored down to the Town Hall, towards which a great stream of people was advancing.
I mounted the platform and found my senator and the congressman safely seated amidst a number of officials and ladies. At eight o'clock some members of the Grand Army of the Republic took their seats well up to the front, amidst cheers. They were fine looking men, hale and hearty. I wish public speakers would not address these soldiers by telling them that their numbers are dwindling, and so on. They always do it, and the veterans are patient; but when I am eighty I shall object very strongly to anyone suggesting to me that soon I shall descend into the grave. The mere fact that their numbers are dwindling is true, alas, but they have faced death before, and even now they must feel the same irritation with public speakers that Tommy feels when, just before a charge, a chaplain preaches to him about the life to come. However, the ladies feel sobs in their throats and I daresay the soldiers don't mind very much. They have got hardened to it.
At this meeting there were three choirs numbering in all about six hundred voices. An energetic gentleman stood on the stage and commanded the singing, which all the people liked; and smilingly obeyed him when he urged different sections of the audience to sing alone.
Of course we sang the "Star Spangled Banner," and at the chorus one of the men of the Grand Army of the Republic stepped forward, like the soldier he was, and waved a beautiful heavy silk flag gracefully and slowly. The effect was fine.
After some remarks on the part of the chairman, in which he said that the "peaks in the distance shone with a rosy light," my senator spoke. He introduced a remark which I liked very much but had not heard before. It was something about his great-grandfather dying in New York on a British pest ship. His idea was of course to bring out a contrast in regard to the present friendship for Great Britain. I spoke for over an hour, and when I had finished the whole vast audience of nearly four thousand men and women rose to their feet and sang "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow." I felt a little miserable but very proud. It was all very easy, really. The war is a serious business to the Scranton folk and they wanted to hear about things: they have all got a sense of humour, and I have lived with the British Tommy.
The next day we arrived at Mauch Chunk and addressed a wonderful audience of people, some of whom I believe were Pennsylvania Dutchmen and consequently my friends. I wish I could pronounce the name of their town. The local clergyman showed me an application form he had filled in for admittance to the U. S. A. in which he remarked that he was a citizen of the United States by birth, talent and inclination. He is about sixty years old, but he will be a soldier of some sort before this war is over, I am quite sure.
That evening we addressed the citizens of Easton. Apparently the audience consisted of mostly workmen. After the meeting I went to a reception at the house of some people of consequence. The very rich folk of Easton were all here and beautifully dressed. They were awfully nice folk, but I suspect that they ought to have been at the meeting, for, of course, it was arranged by the men keenly interested in the war. I daresay that they felt that they knew all that was to be known about the war, but it seemed to me that they ought to have seized this opportunity to let the folk with fewer opportunities see that they were keenly interested. As a matter of fact, they all knit a great deal and do what they can. Actually, the outstanding fact is this: There were two meetings in Easton. One took place in a school auditorium and was filled with men and women keen as far as one could judge to "carry this thing through." The other took place in a very charming house which was filled with men and women in full evening dress, also keen to "carry this thing through." It is a pity that they could not have met.
We returned to Philadelphia, very tired, but buoyed up with enthusiasm which had been given to us by the people who live in the Susquehanna and Wyoming Valleys. There are other beauty spots in this world, but the man who follows the trail of the Black Diamond up the Wyoming and Susquehanna Valleys sees much that he can never forget.
People in Philadelphia sometimes say that the country is still asleep to the situation. They speak vaguely of the outlying counties. The folk there may be asleep, but to my mind they are giving a very effective sleep-walking performance and I should shrink from waking them up.