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           Itwaseitherprintedortypedbyoneofthosenewmachinesthatlooksliketype,butitwasmarredwithharshblackpencillinesdownbothmargins.

           ILOVEAMERICA

           by

           ETHANALLENHAWLEYII

           "Whatisanindividualman?Anatom,almostinvisiblewithoutamagnifyingglass—amerespeckuponthesurfaceoftheuniverse;notasecondintimecomparedtoimmeasurable,never-beginningandnever-endingeternity,adropofwaterinthegreatdeepwhichevaporatesandisborneoffbythewinds,agrainofsand,whichissoongatheredtothedustfromwhichitsprung.Shallabeingsosmall,sopetty,sofleeting,soevanescentopposeitselftotheonwardmarchofagreatnationwhichistosubsistforagesandagestocome,opposeitselftothatlonglineofposteritywhichspringingfromourloinswillendureduringtheexistenceoftheworld?Letuslooktoourcountry,elevateourselvestothedignityofpureanddisinterestedpatriots,andsaveourcountryfromallimpendingdangers.Whatarewe—whatisanyman—worthwhoisnotreadyandwillingtosacrificehimselfforhiscountry?"

           Iriffledthroughthepagesandsawtheblackmarkseverywhere.

           "Doyourecognizeit?"

           "No.Itsoundsfamiliar—soundslikemaybesomewhereinthelastcentury."

           "Itis.It’sHenryClay,deliveredin1850."

           "Andtherest?AllClay?"

           "No—bitsandpieces,someDanielWebster,someJefferson,and,Godhelpme,aswatchfromLincoln’sSecondInaugural.Idon’tknowhowthatgotpast.Iguessbecausetherewerethousandsofthem.