“Every time I visited him, he said something which remained fixed in my memory.  But one day I found him quite grave.

“‘Jerome,’ said he, ‘do you know what is going on on the frontier?’

“‘No, lieutenant,’ replied I.

“‘Well,’ resumed he, ‘our country is in danger!’

“I did not well understand him, and yet it seemed something to me.

“‘Perhaps you have never thought what your country means,’ continued he, placing his hand on my shoulder; `it is all that surrounds you, all that has brought you up and fed you, all that you have loved!  This ground that you see, these houses, these trees, those girls who go along there laughing—­this is your country!  The laws which protect you, the bread which pays for your work, the words you interchange with others, the joy and grief which come to you from the men and things among which you live—­this is your country!  The little room where you used to see your mother, the remembrances she has left you, the earth where she rests—­this is your country!  You see it, you breathe it, everywhere!  Think to yourself, my son, of your rights and your duties, your affections and your wants, your past and your present blessings; write them all under a single name—­and that name will be your country!’

“I was trembling with emotion, and great tears were in my eyes.

“‘Ah!  I understand,’ cried I; ’it is our home in large; it is that part of the world where God has placed our body and our soul.’

“‘You are right, Jerome,’ continued the old soldier; ’so you comprehend also what we owe it.’

“‘Truly,’ resumed I, ’we owe it all that we are; it is a question of love.’

“‘And of honesty, my son,’ concluded he.  ’The member of a family who does not contribute his share of work and of happiness fails in his duty, and is a bad kinsman; the member of a partnership who does not enrich it with all his might, with all his courage, and with all his heart, defrauds it of what belongs to it, and is a dishonest man.  It is the same with him who enjoys the advantages of having a country, and does not accept the burdens of it; he forfeits his honor, and is a bad citizen!’

“‘And what must one do, lieutenant, to be a good citizen?’ asked I.

“‘Do for your country what you would do for your father and mother,’ said he.

“I did not answer at the moment; my heart was swelling, and the blood boiling in my veins; but on returning along the road, my uncle’s words were, so to speak, written up before my eyes.  I repeated, ’Do for your country what you would do for your father and mother.’  And my country is in danger; an enemy attacks it, while I—­I turn cups and balls!

“This thought tormented me so much all night that the next day I returned to Vincennes to announce to the lieutenant that I had just enlisted, and was going off to the frontier.  The brave man pressed upon me his cross of St. Louis, and I went away as proud as an ambassador.