“Come, Ethel,” said Jane, “we must go. And you boys will have to hurry. Larry, don't wait for Papa. He will likely have a seat on the platform. Good night for the present. You can find your way out, can't you? And, Mr. MacLean, you will find something to do until we come down?”
Smiling over her shoulder, Jane took Ethel off with her upstairs.
“Come, Smart, let's get a move on,” said Larry, abruptly seizing his hat and making for the door. “We will have to fight to get in now.”
The theatre was packed, pit to gods. Larry and his friend with considerable difficulty made their way to the front row of those standing, where they found a group of University men, who gave them enthusiastic welcome to a place in their company. The Chairman had made his opening remarks, and the first speaker, the Honourable B. B. Bomberton, was well on into his oration by the time they arrived. He was at the moment engaged in dilating upon the peril through which the country had recently passed, and thanking God that Canada had loyally stood by the Empire and had refused to sell her heritage for a mess of pottage.
“Rot!” cried a voice from the first gallery, followed by cheers and counter cheers.
The Honourable gentleman, however, was an old campaigner and not easily thrown out of his stride. He fiercely turned upon his interrupter and impaled him upon the spear point of his scornful sarcasm, waving the while with redoubled vigour, “the grand old flag that for a thousand years had led the embattled hosts of freedom in their fight for human rights.”
“Rot!” cried the same voice again. “Can the flag stuff. Get busy and say something.” (Cheers, counter cheers, yells of “Throw him out,” followed by disturbance in the gallery.)
Once more the speaker resumed his oration. He repeated his statement that the country had been delivered from a great peril. The strain upon the people's loyalty had been severe, but the bonds that bound them to the Empire had held fast, and please God would ever hold fast. (Enthusiastic demonstration from all the audience, indicating intense loyalty to the Empire.) They had been invited to enter into a treaty for reciprocal trade with the Republic south of us. He would yield to none in admiration, even affection, for their American neighbours. He knew them well; many of his warmest friends were citizens of that great Republic. But great as was his esteem for that Republic he was not prepared to hand over his country to any other people, even his American neighbours, to be exploited and finally to be led into financial bondage. He proceeded further to elaborate and illustrate the financial calamity that would overtake the Dominion of Canada as a result of the establishment of Reciprocity between the Dominion and the Republic. But there was more than that. They all knew that ancient political maxim “Trade follows the flag.” But like most proverbs it was only half a truth. The other half was equally true that “The flag followed trade.” There was an example of that within their own Empire. No nation in the world had a prouder record for loyalty than Scotland. Yet in 1706 Scotland was induced to surrender her independence as a nation and to enter into union with England. Why? Chiefly for the sake of trade advantages.
“Ye're a dom leear,” shouted an excited Scot, rising to his feet in the back of the hall. “It was no Scotland that surrendered. Didna Scotland's king sit on England's throne. Speak the truth, mon.” (Cheers, uproarious laughter and cries, “Go to it, Scotty; down wi' the Sassenach. Scotland forever!”)
When peace had once more fallen the Honourable B. B. Bomberton went on. He wished to say that his Scottish friend had misunderstood him. He was not a Scot himself—