dvanced by quick stages from red-faced
confusion to purple mirth. It appeared that my presence was the
ground for a heavy German joke in connection with the youngest of the
aborigines. He was a very plump and greasy looking aborigine with a
doll-like rosiness of cheek and a scared and bristling pompadour and
very small pig-eyes. The other aborigines clapped him on the back and
roared:

"Ai Fritz! Jetzt brauchst du nicht zu weinen! Deine Lena war aber nicht
so huebsch, eh?"

Later I learned that Fritz was the newest arrival and that since coming
to this country he had been rather low in spirits in consequence of a
certain flaxen-haired Lena whom he had left behind in the fatherland.

An examination of the dining room and its other occupants served to keep
my mind off the hateful long table. The dining room was a double one,
the floor carpetless and clean. There was a little platform at one
end with hardy-looking plants in pots near the windows. The wall was
ornamented with very German pictures of very plump, bare-armed German
girls being chucked under the chin by very dashing, mustachioed German
lieutenants. It was all very bare, and strange and foreign to my eyes,
and yet there was something bright and comfortable about it. I felt
that I was going to like it, aborigines and all. The men drink beer with
their supper and read the Staats-Zeitung and the Germania and foreign
papers that I never heard of. It is uncanny, in these United States. But
it is going to be bully for my German.

After my first letter home Norah wrote frantically, demanding to know
if I was the only woman in the house. I calmed her fears by assuring
her that, while the men were interesting and ugly with the fascinating
ugliness of a bulldog, the women were crushed looking and uninteresting
and wore hopeless hats. I have written Norah and Max reams about this
household, from the aborigines to Minna, who tidies my room and serves
my meals, and admires my clothes. Minna is related to Frau Knapf, whom
I have never seen. Minna is inordinately fond of dress, and her remarks
anent my own garments are apt to be a trifle disconcerting, especially
when she intersperses her recital of dinner dishes with admiring
adjectives directed at my blouse or hat. Thus:

"Wir haben roast beef, und spareribs mit Sauerkraut, und schicken--ach,
wie schon, Frau Orme! Aber ganz prachtvoll!" Her eyes and hands are
raised toward heaven.

"What's prachtful?" I ask, startled.