16 
House & Garden 
THE HARDEST KIND of PATRIOTISM 
1 
a HERE are many kinds of 
Patriotism, just as there 
are many kinds of glory—one 
glory of the sun, and another 
glory of the moon, and another 
glory of the stars. Yet each in 
its separate sphere works to the effectiveness and power of the whole. 
There is the patriotism that bids a man give up home and km and 
pleasures and the benefits of labor to face the privations of the battle¬ 
field and almost certain annihilation. 
There is the patriotism that keeps a woman working cheerily half 
the night at a canteen and a mechanic working overtime at his lathe. 
There is the patriotism that makes a philanthropist out of the poorest 
man who gives of his savings to agencies of mercy. _ 
There is the patriotism which moves a great executive to forego a 
substantial salary and lend his experience and energies to the Govern¬ 
ment for a dollar a year. 
There is also the patriotism which moves along quietly, unheeded, 
unostentatious and does the everyday work of life bv keeping affairs as 
normal as possible in these abnormal times. Of all brands of patriotism 
this is the most difficult to maintain. It has no glamor, it wears no 
uniform, it has no reward save the consciousness of well doing. And 
because it lacks the military air and serves the nation indirectly, it would 
seem to be working against the cause. Its glory is not of the sun nor the 
moon, nor the stars, but of the night sky 
one tone, steady, enduring, the background 
for the brilliance of war. 
Almost all grades of patriotism have re¬ 
ceived public acclaim. Peculiarly enough 
this has been neglected. Yet it is vitally 
important—this business of keeping a cool 
head. 
O UR first year of the war has found us 
passing through precisely the same 
spiritual and economic phases that Eng¬ 
land experienced. The initial period of 
flag waving was followed by deep depres¬ 
sion, then business slackening, govern¬ 
mental chaos, finally the beginning of ad¬ 
justment and order, until the people settled 
themselves down to a state of war and lived 
as normally as they could under it. Unlike 
the German people, we were not raised in 
a constant state of preparation for hostili¬ 
ties. We are a people of peaceable com¬ 
mercial instincts, and we must adjust our¬ 
selves to the exigencies and requirements 
of war. Eventually—indeed, the day is not 
f ar 0 ff—the abnormal will become normal 
to us. It will seem that we always were 
at war. 
Serve the Nation by Living Normally Under Abnormal 
Conditions and Preserve the Morale of the American IIome 
the hardest kind of patriotism 
—the patriotism of service by 
living normally—will be recog¬ 
nized. Then shall we appreciate 
that just as much courage is re¬ 
quired to stay at home and fight 
the battle on this last line as is required to go forth and fight it on 
the first. Then shall we learn that one of the greatest possible services 
we can render to our nation and the cause is to preserve the morale of 
the American home. 
T 
HE home is the heart of a nation’s life. Unless it is preserved 
^ intact no nation can abide. Belgium was ruined when her homes 
were destroyed and her family life disintegrated by German atrocities 
and deportations. The spirit that is keeping Belgium alive today is 
the memory of her homes. The spirit which has driven us into this war 
is the love of our homes and the desire to protect them. How much 
more necessary is it, now that the safety of our homes is threatened, 
that we preserve their morale? 
The morale of their home is measured by the pride man and woman 
take in it. This means a house that is kept clean, a house that is kept 
in good repair, furnished in good taste and maintained with seemly 
order. It is the duty of every American to see that these simple things 
are preserved. With the world plunged into the most terrible suffering 
we must maintain at least one spot where 
peace and order and beauty and an air of 
substantiality reign. No nation is more 
secure than its homes. The ideal of no 
nation is greater than the ideal of its 
homes. Without this foundation of the 
home we can never hope to win. 
B 
DIRECTIONS TO THE ULTIMATE 
LANDLORD 
T HE first step in the transformation of 
the American people was the complete 
mobilization of its forces. We were not 
content merely to mobilize an army and 
send forth a battle fleet; we called to the 
colors the timber upon a thousand hills, 
the wool upon myriad flocks, the output of 
the mines, the products of our countless 
factories. Every producing agency in 
America was turned, in some fashion, to the 
furtherance of the war. This meant that 
the cement which last year was used for I--- 
house foundations is being used for gun 
foundations, that the timber which framed our houses is used in build¬ 
ing barracks, that the wool which went into rugs must now go into 
army blankets and that the silks which we used for draperies now must 
be given to the service that our 10,000 airmen can be supported in their 
flights. 
No true American can raise the slightest objection to this transforma¬ 
tion of our energies. For we can have but one aim—to pursue the war 
to the speedy and lasting peace which victory alone can bring us and 
our allies. 
In due time, however, we must reach that second stage of readjust¬ 
ment to conditions, when this abnormal energy must settle itself, when 
Shut up the old house, 
Close the door, 
Draw all the curtains down: 
Let the long shadow take the floor, 
For I am out of town. 
WILLARD WATTLES. 
wisely and spent it 
The best investment 
UT we must not be content with what 
_ we have. For the ambition of the 
home owners in America measures the am¬ 
bition of our nation. We are constantly 
striving for new and better homes—houses 
with distinctive and individualistic char¬ 
acter in their design, their gardens and 
their furnishing. The existence of that 
ambition has raised a great problem: 
Should we, as patriotic Americans, strive 
to satisfy our desire for better homes at this 
time? Should we build houses now? 
Should we spend our money on interior 
decorations? Or should that pleasure be 
sacrificed and the money given directly to 
the cause? 
In the first stages of the war it was 
obviously our duty to give the money di¬ 
rectly. Today, in the readjustment of 
commerce and manufacturing to war con¬ 
ditions and the justly universal imposition 
of excess profit taxes, our duty is two-fold: 
we must not be content with giving our 
money directly to the Government in Lib¬ 
erty Bonds, we must also give it indirectly 
by spending it wisely and helping to keep 
commerce normal. 
This war has taught us a new kind of 
thrift. In former times thrift meant hoard¬ 
ing; today thrift means keeping your 
money at work. The rich men of today 
have become rich not because they hid 
their money in a stocking, but because they 
kept it constantly at work — invested it 
where the best returns were to be had. 
a man can make is in a home. He invests 
thereby not only in the present for himself, but also in the future for 
his children. And his children will reflect their home—they will re¬ 
flect its good taste, its simplicity, its open-door hospitality, the beauty 
of the gardens about it and the strength of its very foundations. 
These are the two sides of the war—the battle there and the battle 
here. To win the war we must win on both these fronts. Among the 
most serviceable patriots are those who are trying to preserve national 
morale by maintaining personal and domestic morale. They are doing 
it by spending wisely. 
