don't mean, the sort of tonic merely intended to make gouty old
gentlemen feel they want to buy a hoop, but the sort of tonic for
which it was claimed that three drops poured upon a ham sandwich and
the thing would begin to squeak.

It struck me as pathetic, the picture of these American widows
leaving their native land, coming over in shiploads to spend the rest
of their blighted lives in exile. The mere thought of America, I
took it, had for ever become to them distasteful. The ground that
once his feet had pressed! The old familiar places once lighted by
his smile! Everything in America would remind them of him.
Snatching their babes to their heaving bosoms they would leave the
country where lay buried all the joy of their lives, seek in the
retirement of Paris, Florence or Vienna, oblivion of the past.

Also, it struck me as beautiful, the noble resignation with which
they bore their grief, hiding their sorrow from the indifferent
stranger. Some widows make a fuss, go about for weeks looking gloomy
and depressed, making not the slightest effort to be merry. These
fourteen widows--I knew them personally, all of them, I lived in the
same street--what a brave show of cheerfulness they put on! What a
lesson to the common or European widow, the humpy type of widow! One
could spend whole days in their company--I had done it--commencing
quite early in the morning with a sleighing excursion, finishing up
quite late in the evening with a little supper party, followed by an
impromptu dance; and never detect from their outward manner that they
were not thoroughly enjoying themselves.

From the mothers I turned my admiring eyes towards the children.
This is the secret of American success, said I to myself; this high-