Posted 17th May 2008 at 04:40 PM by Kutte by Mark Twain (Abbreviated)
The country was up in arms, the war was on, in every breast burned the holy fire of patriotism; the drums were beating, the bands playing; on every hand and balconies a fluttering wilderness of flags flashed in the sun; daily the young volunteers marched down the wide avenue in their new uniforms, the proud fathers and mothers and sisters and sweethearts cheering them with voices choked with happy emotion as they swung by; nightly the packed mass meetings... | 
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