oor, miserable, drunken sailor
before the mast, kicked and cuffed about the world, and die in some
fever hospital!' That's my fate is it? I'll change my life, and I will
change it at once. I will never utter another oath, never drink
another drop of intoxicating liquor, never gamble, and as God is my
witness I have kept these three vows to this hour."

The Star Spangled Banner

The sun is slowly sinking in the west. The men of the army and navy
are drawn up at attention. At every fort, army post, and navy yard,
and on every American battle-ship at home or abroad, the flag of our
country is flying at full mast. The sunset gun will soon be fired, and
night will follow the day as darkness follows the light. All is ready,
the signal is given, the men salute, and the flag to the band's
accompaniment of "The Star Spangled Banner" slowly descends for the
night to be folded and kept for the morning's hoisting.

"And the Star Spangled Banner in triumph shall wave
While the land of the free is the home of the brave."

In the cemetery of Mt. Olivet, near Frederick, Md., there is a spot
where the flag of our country is never lowered. It is keeping watch by
night as by day over the grave of Francis Scott Key, author of "The
Star Spangled Banner." He was born in Frederick County, Md., August 1,
1779, and died in Baltimore, January 11, 1843.

The Congress of the United States has never formally adopted "The Star
Spangled Banner" as a national anthem, but it has become such through
the recognition {331} given to it by the army and navy. It is played
on all state occasions at home or abroad and is the response of our
bands at all international gatherings. In the theatre, at a public
meeting, or at a banquet--whenever it is played, the people rise and
remain standing to the end as a tribute to the flag of our country.

The poem itself is descriptive of what the author saw and felt on the
night of September 13, 1814, as he watched the bombardment of Fort
McHenry by the British during the War of 1812. The city of Washington
had been sacked, bombarded, and burned by the British, and now in
their march of destruction, they were bombarding the fort to gain
entrance to Baltimore's harbor, in which city they had purposed to
spend the winter. We can well imagine the joy of Key's heart, the son
of a Revolutionary patriot, held in custody on a British battle-ship,
to see in the morning "that our flag was still there," and to know,
th