"Are you grieving because you think I've lost love? Parson, did you ever know something you didn't know how you knew, but you know you know it because it's true? Well then—I know that girl's mine and I came here to find her, though on the face of it you'd think I'd lost her, wouldn't you? Somewhere and sometime I'll come again—and when I do, she'll know me."
And to save my life I couldn't tell him I didn't believe it! His manner even more than his words impressed me. He didn't look improbable.
"One little life and one little death," said the Butterfly Man, "couldn't possibly be big enough for something like this to get away from a man forever. I have got the thing too big for a dozen lives to hold. Isn't that a great deal for a man to have, parson?"
"Yes." said I. "It is a great deal for a man to have." But I foresaw the empty, empty places, in the long, long years ahead. I added faintly: "Having that much, you have more than most."
"You only have what you are big enough not to take," said he. "And I'm not fooling myself I shan't be lonesome and come some rough tumbles at times. The difference is, that if I go down now I won't stay down. If there was one thing I could grieve over, too, it would be—kids. I'd like kids. My own kids. And I shall never have any. It—well, it just wouldn't be fair to the kids. Louisa'll come nearest to being mine by bornation—though I'm thinking she's managed to wish me everybody else's, on her curl."
"So! You are your own ancestor and your own descendant, and everybody's kids are yours! You are modest, hein? And what else have you got?"
His eyes suddenly danced. "Nothing but the rest of the United States," said the Butterfly Man, magnificently. And when I stared, he laughed at me.
"It's quite true, parson: I have got the whole United States to work for. Uncle Sam. U.S. Us! I've been drafted into the Brigade that hasn't any commander, nor any colors, nor honors, nor even a name; but that's never going to be mustered out of service, because we that enlist and belong can't and won't quit.
"Parson, think of me representing the Brigade down here on the Carolina coast, keeping up the work, fighting things that hurt and finding out things that help Lord, what a chance! A hundred millions to work for, a hundred millions of one's own people—and a trail to blaze for the unborn millions to come!" His glance kindled, his face was like a lighted lamp. The vision was upon him, standing there in the April sunlight, staring wide-eyed into the future.
Its reflected light illumined me, too—a little. And I saw that in a very large and splendid sense, this was the true American. He stood almost symbolically for that for which America stands—the fighting chance to overcome and to grow, the square deal, the spirit that looks eagle-eyed and unafraid into the sunrise. And above all for unselfish service and unshakable faith, and a love larger than personal love, prouder than personal pride, higher than personal ambition. They do not know America who do not know and will not see this spirit in her, going its noble and noiseless way apart.