In 61 B.C., Pompey returned to Rome from the wars, having conquered the known world. He led a triumphal procession along the Via Sacra, occupying two days. In front were borne brazen tablets on which were recorded a list of the nations conquered and the trophies won in Africa, in Europe, and in Asia, representing nine hundred cities and one thousand fortresses. (Text.)
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See [Winning].
VICTORY IN DEFEAT
Billy Boy was in a very serious frame of mind; in fact, he was quite gloomy and dejected. To be sure, his side hadn’t won the cricket match, but that was scarcely enough to account for his present state of feeling. He had lost before, and usually with pretty good grace. But to-day no sympathy appealed to him, no cheerful encouragement won so much as a shadow of a smile. The hopeful, merry, happy Billy Boy had entirely disappeared.
Mother, whose experience with little boys had warned her of occasions when it was a case of “do-better-or-do-nothing-at-all,” as Hans says in the Grimm story, waited for the situation to develop, and at last the silence was broken. Slowly, seriously, solemnly, Billy Boy said it:
“Mother, God was on the side of the bad boys, and they won. You see, we fellows thought we would try awfully hard and not get mad or cheat or say bad words. And not one fellow did. And the other fellows did—like fury. I guess they swore. And they won and we were licked. God was on their side all right, and it’s not fair.”
Ordinary comfort and explanation availed nothing. The fact remained. The faithful little band that had tried to do right had been beaten by the rough little crowd that didn’t care anything at all about it. God was on the side of might—not right. This was self-evident and did not admit of explanation; and who wants comfort for injustice? Not Billy Boy. After a while father came in, and before Billy Boy saw him, mother had presented the case.
He thought carefully a moment. Then his cheerful voice was heard.
“Well, my boy, I hear you won out to-day.”