r in the morning."

Derry smiled to himself as he left them. He knew that Nurse did not
approve of him. He had a way as it were of aiding and abetting Teddy.

But as he went on the smile faded. There were many soldiers on the
street, many uniforms, flags of many nations draping doorways where
were housed the men from across the sea who were working shoulder to
shoulder with America for the winning of the war--. Washington had
taken on a new aspect. It had a waked-up look, as if its lazy days
were over, and there were real things to do.

The big church at the triangle showed a Red Cross banner. Within women
were making bandages, knitting sweaters and socks, sewing up the long
seams of shirts and pajamas. A few years ago they had worshipped a
Christ among the lilies. They saw him now on the battlefield,
crucified again in the cause of humanity.

It seemed to Derry that even the civilians walked with something of a
martial stride. Men, who for years had felt their strength sapped by
the monotony of Government service, were revived by the winds of
patriotism which swept from the four corners of the earth. Women who
had lost youth and looks in the treadmill of Departmental life held up
their heads as if their eyes beheld a new vision.

Street cars were crowded, things were at sixes and sevens; red tape was
loose where it should have been tight and tight where it should have
been loose. Little men with the rank of officer sat in swivel chairs
and tried to direct big things; big men, without rank, were tied to the
trivial. Many, many things were wrong, and many, many things were
right, as it is always when war comes upon a people unprepared.

And in the midst of all this clash and crash and movement and
achievement, Derry was walking to a toy shop to carry a tea-cup!

He found Miss Emily alone in the big front room.

She did not at once recognize him.

"You remember I was in here the other night--and you wouldn't sell--tin
soldiers--."

She flushed a little. "Oh, with your father?"

"Yes. He's a dear old chap--."

It was the best apology he could make, and she loved him for it.

He brought out the cup and set it on the counter. "It is like yours?"

"Yes." But she did not want to take it.

"Please. I brought it on purpose. We have a dozen."

"Of these?"

"Yes."

"But it will break your set."

"We have oodles of sets. Dad collects--you know-- There are dishes
enough in the house to sta