You'd have to change yourself in so many ways, your old friends wouldn't
know you. Pretty soon you wouldn't be an American at all any longer. And
yet you would never feel wholly an Atlantisan either. Your children
would look down on you as a greenhorn, and laugh at your slips. They
would seem unsympathetic, or different,--not quite your own children.

The natives of Atlantis would help you along, once in a while, by giving
you lectures and telling you not to read your home paper. But you, who
had felt so adventurous and bold, when you started, would have to get
used to their regarding you as a comic inferior. Not even your children
would know what you had had to contend with. Not one of the natives
would try to put himself in your place.

Yet how could they? How could any one who hadn't gone through the
experience? It is a complicated matter to learn to belong to a strange
country, when the process includes making yourself over to fit other
men's notions.

It was easy for Noah: all he had to get used to was Ararat.

Sic Semper Dissenters

Written during the war-time censorship of our late Postmaster-General.

In the town of Hottentottenville an aged Hottentot,
Whose name was Hottentotten-tillypoo,
Was slowly hottentottering around a vacant lot,
With a vacant look upon his higaboo.
Now higaboo is Hottentot, as you may know, for face,
And to wear a vacant look upon your face is a disgrace.
But poor old Mr. Tillypoo, he had no other place--
Though I understand it grieved him through and thru.

He was grubbing up potatoes in an aimless sort of way,
Which really was the only way he had,
And an officer was watching him to see what he would say,
And arrest him if the things he said were bad.
For it seems this wretched Tillypoo had gone and had the thought
That his neighbors didn't always do exactly as they ought;
And as this was rank sedition, why, they hoped to see him caught,
For it naturally made them pretty mad.

So the men of Hottentottenville, they passed a little law,
Which they called the Hotta-Shotta-Shootum Act,
Which fixed it so the postman was a sort of Grand Bashaw,
Who determined what was false and what was fact.
And the postman sentenced Tillypoo, and wouldn't hear his wails,
But gave him twenty years apiece in all the local jails,
And said he couldn't vote no more, and barred him from t