could not change his nationality without his father's consent. It was
his last desperate argument that turned the decision in his favour,
"If it's a choice between my honour and my country, I choose my honour
every time." So now he's a Britisher, learning "spit and polish" and
expecting to bring down a Hun almost any day.

One noticed in almost the smallest details how deeply America had
committed her conscience to her new undertaking. While in England
we grumble about a food-control which is absolutely necessary to our
preservation, America is voluntarily restricting herself not for her
own sake, but for the sake of the Allies. They say that they are
being "Hooverized," thus coining a new word out of Mr. Hoover's name.
Sometimes these Hooverish practices produce contrasts which are rather
quaint. I went to stay with a friend who had just completed as his
home an exact reproduction of a palace in Florence. Whoever went
short, there was little that he could not afford. At our meals I
noticed that I was the only person who was served with butter and
sugar, and enquired why. "It's all right for you," I was told; "you're
a soldier; but if we eat butter and sugar, some of the Allies who
really need them will have to go short." A small illustration, but one
that is typical of a national, sacrificial, underlying thought.

Later I met with many instances of the various forms in which this
thought is taking shape. I was in America when the Liberty War Loan
was so amazingly over-subscribed. I saw buses, their roofs crowded
with bands and orators, doing the tour of street-corners. Every store
of any size, every railroad, every bank and financial corporation had
set for its employés and customers the ideal sum which it considered
that they personally ought to subscribe. This ideal sum was recorded
on the face of a clock, hung outside the building. As the gross