Jane Eayre Fryer, Our Town and Civic Duty
“ Nolan said, with a sad smile, “Here, you see, I have a country.” Over the foot of the bed was a great map of the United States, drawn from memory. Queer old names were on it, names such as he had learned, like “Indian Territory” and “Louisiana Territory.”“Danforth,” he said, “I know I am dying. I am sure that you know that there is not in America,—God bless her!—a more loyal man than I. There cannot be a man who loves the old flag as I do, or hopes for it as I do. Tell me something,—tell me everything before I die!” ”
