rican, for Albert
Speranza, like so many others set to thinking by the war and the war
experiences, was realizing strongly that the gabbling of a formula and
the swearing of an oath of naturalization did not necessarily make an
American. There were too many eager to take that oath with tongue in
cheek and knife in sleeve. Too many, for the first time in their
lives breathing and speaking as free men, thanks to the protection of
Columbia's arm, yet planning to stab their protectress in the back.

So Albert's hero was to be an American, an American to whom the
term meant the highest and the best. If he had hunted a lifetime for
something to please and interest his grandfather he could not have hit
the mark nearer the center. Cap'n Lote, of course, pretended a certain
measure of indifference, but that was for Olive and Rachel's benefit. It
would never do for the scoffer to become a convert openly and at once.
The feminine members of the household clamored each evening to have the
author read aloud his day's installment. The captain sniffed.

"Oh, dear, dear," with a groan, "now I've got to hear all that made-up
stuff that happened to a parcel of made-up folks that never lived and
never will. Waste of time, waste of time. Where's my Transcript?"

But it was noticed--and commented upon, you may be sure--by his wife and
housekeeper that the Transcript was likely to be, before the reading had
progressed far, either in the captain's lap or on the floor. And when
the discussion following the reading was under way Captain Zelotes'
opinions were expressed quite as freely as any one's else. Laban Keeler
got into the habit of dropping in to listen.

One fateful evening the reading was interrupted by the arrival of
Mr. Kendall. The reverend gentleman had come to make a pastoral call.
Albert's hero was in the middle of a situation. The old clergyman
insisted upon the continuation of the reading. It was continued and so
was the discussion following it; in fact, the discussion seemed likely
to go on indefinitely, for the visitor showed no inclination of leaving.
At ten-thirty his daughter appeared to inquire about him and to
escort him home. Then he went, but under protest. Albert walked to the
parsonage with them.

"Now we've started somethin'," groaned the captain, as the door closed.
"That old critter'll be cruisin' over here six nights out of five
from now on to tell Al just how to spin those yarns of his. And he'll
talk--and t