tortured ankles.

"You did a wonderful thing, Warren," he continued, addressing the boy
he named, "when you started the Boy Scout movement over here. Well I
remember the day I told my people about it. They were amused. They
called it one of the crazy plans of the Americans. They were afraid to
have me join. They were afraid that I would get into trouble with the
government. Everything is so strictly watched. But they were so glad
to have me have a good chance to learn the American language, that they
would not quite forbid me. I thought I never would learn. Sometimes I
thought I knew it well; and there would appear in your speech some
strange words that you could not seem to translate to us, and you
called it all with one word, 'Slang!' You said you could not get along
without it. And it was and is the most difficult part of all the noble
language. Yet now that I can read your native language, I never seem
able to find this slang you talk in the books or magazines. I have
kept a careful list of all I have heard you say, and I am teaching it
to my mother and to my sister who was to have been presented at Court,
had not this war come up. It would be fine for them to be able to talk
this slang to your ambassador." He stopped speaking Polish, and broke
into lame and halting English. "Do you get me, Lissee!" he asked.

Warren groaned.

"For the love of Mike!" he said. "No, I don't mean that! For Pete's
sake --" He groaned again. "I don't know what I mean," he said, "but I
do get you. Mikelovo and you don't want to teach your precious family
any more gems." He hastily sought an excuse. "You see only men and
boys talk it as a general thing. Better teach the women stuff out of
the books."