construction.

They got jobs as steam drillmen. Jim liked the work. He liked the mere
sense of physical accomplishment in working the drill. He liked to be a
part of the creative force that was producing the building. But to his
surprise, his old sense of suffocation in being crowded in with the
immigrant workman returned to him. There came back, too, some of the old
melancholy questioning that he had known as a boy.

He said to Sara one day: "My father used to say that when he was a boy
the phrase, 'American workman' stood for the highest efficiency in the
world, but that even in his day the phrase had become a joke. How could
you expect this rabble to know that there might be such a thing as an
American standard of efficiency?"

Sara laughed. "Junior Economics stick out all over you, Still. This
bunch does as good work as the American owners will pay for."

Jim was silent for a time, then he said: "I wonder what's the matter
with us Americans? How did we come to give our country away to this
horde?"

"'Us Americans!'" mimicked Saradokis. "What is an American, anyhow?"

"I'm an American," returned Jim, briefly.

"Sure," answered the Greek, "but so am I and so are most of these
fellows. And none of us knows what an American is. I'll admit it was
your type founded the government. But you are goners. There is no
American type any more. And by and by we'll modify your old Anglo-Saxon
institutions so that G. Washington will simply revolve in his grave.
We'll add Greek ideas and Yiddish and Wop and Bohunk and Armenian and
Nigger and Chinese and Magyar. Gee! The world will forget there ever was
one of you big-headed New Englanders in this country. Huh! What is an
American? The American type will have a boarding house hash beaten for
infinite variety in a generation or so."

The two young men were marching along 23rd street on their way to Jim's
house for dinner. At Sara's words Jim stopped and stared at the young
Greek. His gray eyes were black.

"So that's the way you feel about us, you foreigners!" exclaimed Jim.
"We blazed the trail for you fellows in this country and called you over
here to use it. And you've suffocated us and you are glad of it. Good
God! Dad and the Indians!"

"What did you call us over here for but to make us do your dirty work
for you?" chuckled the Greek. "Serves you right. Piffle! What's an
American want to talk about my race and thine for? There's room for all
of us!"

Jim did not an