feared that they were going to be subjected. Under the unprecedented
stress this was, perhaps, not unnatural; but it would have seemed less
displeasing had they also occasionally showed concern for England's
plight and peril.

An American, this time a man (our crudities are not limited to the sex)
stood up in a theatre, disputing the sixpence which you always have to
pay for your program in the London theatres. He disputed so long that
many people had to stand waiting to be shown their seats.

During deals at a game of bridge on a Cunard steamer, the talk had turned
upon a certain historic house in an English county. The talk was
friendly, everything had been friendly each day.

"Well," said a very rich American to his English partner in the game,
"those big estates will all be ours pretty soon. We're going to buy them
up and turn your island into our summer resort." No doubt this
millionaire intended to be playfully humorous.

At a table where several British and one American--an officer--sat during
another ocean voyage between Liverpool and Halifax in June, 1919, the
officer expressed satisfaction to be getting home again. He had gone
over, he said, to "clean up the mess the British had made."

To a company of Americans who had never heard it before, was told the
well-known exploit of an American girl in Europe. In an ancient church
she was shown the tomb of a soldier who had been killed in battle three
centuries ago. In his honor and memory, because he lost his life bravely
in a great cause, his family had kept a little glimmering lamp alight
ever since. It hung there, beside the tomb.