The Flag

by Homer Greene

Equipped and generalled, stubborn and aggressive, the opposing forces had faced each other for weeks. Yet it had not been a sanguinary conflict. Aside from a few bruised shins and torn coats and missing caps, there had been no casualties worth mentioning. It was not a country-wide war. It was, indeed, a war of which no history save this veracious chronicle, gives any record.

The contending armies were composed of boys. And the boys were residents, respectively, of the Hill and the Valley; two villages, united under the original name of Chestnut Hill, and so closely joined together that it would have been impossible for a stranger to tell where one ended and the other began. The Hill, back on the plateau, had the advantage of age and the prestige that wealth gives. The Valley, established down on the river bank when the railroad was built through, had the benefit of youth and the virtue of aggressiveness. Yet they were mutually interdependent. One could not have prospered without the aid of the other. When the new graded-school building was erected, it was located on the brow of the hill in order to accommodate pupils from both villages. From that time the boys who lived on the hill were called Hilltops, and those who lived in the valley were called Riverbeds. Just when the trouble began, or what was the specific cause of it, no one seemed exactly to know. Like Topsy, it simply grew. With the first snow of the winter came the first physical clash between the opposing forces of Hilltops and Riverbeds. It was a mild enough encounter, but it served to whet the appetites of the young combatants for more serious warfare. Miss Grey, the principal of the school, was troubled and apprehensive. She had encouraged a friendly rivalry between the two sets of boys in matters of intellectual achievement, but she greatly deprecated such a state of hostility as would give rise to harsh feelings or physical violence. She knew that it would be difficult, if not impossible, to coerce them into peace and harmony, so she set about to contrive some method by which the mutual interest of the boys could be aroused and blended toward the accomplishment of a common object.

The procuring of an American flag for the use of the school had long been talked of, and it occurred to her now that if she could stimulate a friendly rivalry among her pupils, in an effort to obtain funds for the purchase of a flag, it might divert their minds from thoughts of hostility to each other, into channels where a laudable competition would be provocative of harmony. So she decided, after consultation with the two grade teachers, to prepare two subscription blanks, each with its proper heading, and place them respectively in the hands of Penfield Butler captain of the Hilltops, and Alexander Sands commander of the Riverbeds. The other pupils would be instructed to fall in behind these leaders and see which party could obtain, not necessarily the most money, but the largest number of subscriptions. She felt that interest in the flag would be aroused by the numbers contributing rather than by the amount contributed. It was during the session of the school that afternoon that she made the announcement of her plan, and delivered the subscription papers to the two captains. She aroused much enthusiasm by the little speech she made, dwelling on the beauty and symbolism of the flag, and the patriotic impulse that would be aroused and strengthened by having it always in sight.

No one questioned the fact that Pen Butler was the leader of the Hilltops, nor did any one question the similar fact that Aleck Sands was the leader of the Riverbeds. There had never been any election or appointment, to be sure, but, by common consent and natural selection, these two had been chosen in the beginning as commanders of the separate hosts.

When, therefore, the subscription blanks were put into the hands of these boys as leaders, every one felt that nothing would be left undone by either to win fame and honor for his party in the matter of the flag.

So, when the afternoon session of school closed, every one had forgotten, for the time being at least, the old rivalry, and was ready to enlist heartily in the new one.

There was fine coasting that day on Drake's Hill. The surface of the road-bed, hard and smooth, had been worn through in patches, but the snow-fall of the night before had so dressed it over as to make it quite perfect for this exhilarating winter sport.

As he left the school-house Pen looked at his watch, a gift from his grandfather Butler on his last birthday, and found that he would have more than half an hour in which to enjoy himself at coasting before it would be necessary to start for the railroad station to see Colonel Butler off on the train. So, with his companions, he went to Drake's Hill. It was fine sport indeed. The bobs had never before descended so swiftly nor covered so long a stretch beyond the incline. But, no matter how fascinating the sport, Pen kept his engagement in mind and intended to leave the hill in plenty of time to meet it. There were especial reasons this day why he should do so. In the first place Colonel Butler would be away from home for nearly a week, and it had always been Pen's custom to see his grandfather off on a journey, even though he were to be gone but a day. And in the next place he wanted to be sure to get Colonel Butler's name at the head of his flag subscription list. This would doubtless be the most important contribution to be made to the fund.

At half-past four he decided to take one more ride and then start for the station. But on that ride an accident occurred. The bobs on which the boys were seated collapsed midway of the descent, and threw the coasters into a heap in the ditch. None of them was seriously hurt, though the loose stones among which they were thrown were not sufficiently cushioned by the snow to prevent some bruises, and abrasions of the skin. Of course there was much confusion and excitement. There was scrambling, and rubbing of hurt places, and an immediate investigation into the cause of the wreck. In the midst of it all Pen forgot about his engagement. When the matter did recur to his mind he glanced at his watch and found that it lacked but twelve minutes of train time. It would be only by hard sprinting and rare good luck that he would be able to reach the station in time to see his grandfather off. Without a word of explanation to his fellows he started away on a keen run. They looked after him in open-mouthed wonder. They could not conceive what had happened to him. One boy suggested that he had been frightened out of his senses by the shock of the accident; and another that he had struck his head against a rock and had gone temporarily insane, and that he ought to be followed to see that he did no harm to himself. But no one offered to go on such a mission, and, after watching the runner out of sight, they turned their attention again to the wrecked bobs.

Aleck Sands went straight from school to his home in the valley. There were afternoon chores to be done, and he was anxious to finish them as soon as possible in order that he might start out with his subscription paper.