Carry On, Mr. Bowditch

It's a simple matter of mathematics.

Behind Nat someone chuckled. Nat turned. Dr. Bentley was looking at him with a twinkle. "Is this a political argument?" Nat shrugged. "No argument at all. Ben's got an article there that talks against the President. I said I didn't want to hear it. I said that sort of thing ought to be stopped." To Nat's amazement, Dr. Bentley shook his head. "No, Nat. We can't have freedom—unless we have freedom." Nat stiffened. "Does that mean right to tell lies?" Dr. Bentley smiled. "It means the right to have our own opinions. Human problems aren't like mathematics, Nat. Every problem doesn't have just one answer; sometimes you get several answers—and you don't know which is the right one.

A strong man sails by ash breeze!

Mother did not answer. She was still gazing up at the sky. After a while she said, "I made up a sort of saying for myself, Nat. I will lift up my eyes unto the stars. Sometimes, if you look at the stars long enough, it helps. It shrinks your day-by-day troubles down to size." She smiled. 'We'd better go back. Granny and Father will be wondering where we are.

We can't have freedom unless we have freedom. And that means freedom to speak our minds.