which I now saw had been so carefully prepared--fruit of the
secret conference--was but one in the million or so of others throughout
America nurtured and matured by the brave army of fathers, mothers,
wives, sisters, daughters, who stayed at home and gave their all,
waiting with alternate hopes and fears, looking with prayerful eyes to
the day that would bring a certain one back into their arms. What
difference if some plans were elaborate and some as modest as a flower?
Who would dare distinguish between the cruise on a private yacht and the
cake endearingly made in a hot little kitchen for the husky lad just
returned from overseas? Each was its own best expression of pride and
love. Each said in its tenderest way: "Well done, my own!"

A lump came into my throat.

"It's rather decent of a fellow to have two such corking forbears," I
murmured.

The Mater turned her gentle eyes to the fire, and Dad, clearing his
throat in a blustering way--though he was not at all a blustering
man--replied:

"Perhaps it's rather decent of us to have a son who--er, I mean,
who--well, er----"

"A cruise hits me right," I exclaimed, hurriedly coming to his rescue,
for neither of us wanted a scene. "And I'll wire Tommy Davis, Mater--the
chap you mentioned. He's a corking fellow! I didn't write you how the
battalion started calling him 'Rebel' till he closed up half a dozen
eyes, did I? You see, in the beginning, when we were rookies, the
sergeant had us up in formation to get our names, and when he came to
Tommy that innocent drawled: 'Mr. Thomas Jefferson Davis, suh, of
Loui'ville, Jefferson county, Kentucky, suh.' You could have heard a pin
drop. The sergeant, as hard-boiled as they come, stood perfectly still
and let a cold eye bore into him for half a minute, then gasped: 'Gawd!
What a wicked little rebel!'"

They laughed.

"Why didn't you bring him home with you?"

"Same reason he couldn't take me home with him. There were people
waiting, and turkey, and--but he won't want to go," I added. "He's crazy
about a girl down there!"

"Fiddlesticks," my father chuckled. "Any normal fellow'll want to
cruise! I'll wire him myself--this very night!"

Bilkins entered with the tray, wishing us a happy new year. Outside the
whistles were beginning to blow. After we had pledged each other, and
drunk to 1919, the Mater, a light of challenge in her eyes, looked at me
and gave another toast:

"To a cruise and an adventure, Jack!"

"T