'Way inside, where a Voice speaks,
Far—and near—and far?"
When we got to Jeffro's gate, Mis' Sykes came past me.
"Ain't it sad?" she says. "Not a soldier, nor a patriotic song, nor a flag to meet our hero?"
I looked at her, kind. I felt kind to all the world, because somehow I felt so sure, so certain sure, of things.
"Don't you worry, Mis' Sykes," I says. "I kind of feel as if more was here to meet Jeffro than we've any notion of."
For it was one of the times when what you thought was the earth under your feet dissolves away, and nothing is left there but a little bit of dirt, with miles of space just on the under side of it. It was one of the times when what you thought was the sky over your head is drawn away like a cloth, and nothing is there but miles of space high on the upper side of it. And in between these two great spaces are us little humans, kind of creeping round—wondering what we're for.
FOOTNOTE:
[11] Copyright, 1915, The Woman's Home Companion.