so long as we tolerate ugliness where beauty should obtain; and so long
as our homes and our farms betray the spirit of shiftlessness,--so long
shall we have occasion to blush when we look at our flag and confess our
dereliction of our high privilege of patriotism.

=The American restaurant.=--Perhaps no single detail of the customs that
obtain in our country impresses a cultivated foreigner more unfavorably
than the régime in our popular restaurants. The noise, the rattle and
clatter and bang, the raucous calling of orders, and the hurry and
confusion give him the impression that we are content to have feeding
places where we might have eating places. He regards all that he sees
and hears as being less than proper decorum, less than a high standard
of intelligence, less than refined cultivation, and less than agencies
that contribute to the graces of life. He marvels that we have not yet
attained the conception that partaking of food amounts to a gracious and
delightful ceremony rather than a gastronomic orgy. His surprise is not
limited to the people who administer these establishments, but extends
to the people who patronize them. He marvels that the patrons do not
seek out places where there is quiet, and serenity, and pleasing
decorum. He returns to his own land wondering if the noisy restaurant is
typical of American civilization. He may not know that the study of
domestic science in our schools has not had time to attain its full
fruition in the way of inculcating a lofty conception of life in the
dining room.

=Thrift as patriotism.=--Another important phase of patriotism is
thrift; and here, again, we have come short of realizing our
possibilities. There are far too many people who have failed to lay in
store against times of emergency, far too many who care only for to-day
with slight regard for to-morrow. Moreover, there are far too many who,