ou mean. 'Cray'?"

"No white," said Herr Favre, with a wave of his hand toward the
long rows of houses on both sides of the street. "No white lace
window-curtains; all cray lace window-curtains."

"Oh. I see!" Sheridan laughed indulgently. "You mean 'GRAY.' No, they
ain't, they're white. I never saw any gray ones."

Herr Favre shook his head, much amused. "There are NO white ones,"
he said. "There is no white ANYTHING in your city; no white
window-curtains, no white house, no white peeble!" He pointed upward.
"Smoke!" Then he sniffed the air and clasped his nose between forefinger
and thumb. "Smoke! Smoke ef'rywhere. Smoke in your insites." He tapped
his chest. "Smoke in your lunks!"

"Oh! SMOKE!" Sheridan cried with gusto, drawing in a deep breath and
patently finding it delicious. "You BET we got smoke!"

"Exbensif!" said Herr Favre. "Ruins foliage; ruins fabrics. Maybe in
summer it iss not so bad, but I wonder your wifes will bear it."

Sheridan laughed uproariously. "They know it means new spring hats for
'em!"

"They must need many, too!" said the visitor. "New hats, new all things,
but nothing white. In Munchen we could not do it; we are a safing
peeble."

"Where's that?"

"In Munchen. You say 'Munich.'"

"Well, I never been to Munich, but I took in the Mediterranean trip,
and I tell you, outside o' some right good scenery, all I saw was mighty
dirty and mighty shiftless and mighty run-down at the heel. Now comin'
right down TO it, Mr. Farver, wouldn't you rather live here in this town
than in Munich? I know you got more enterprise up there than the part of
the old country I saw, and I know YOU'RE a live business man and you're
associated with others like you, but when it comes to LIVIN' in a place,
wouldn't you heap rather be here than over there?"

"For me," said Herr Favre, "no. Here I should not think I was living. It
would be like the miner who goes into the mine to work; nothing else."

"We got a good many good citizens here from your part o' the world. THEY
like it."

"Oh yes." And Herr Favre laughed deprecatingly. "The first generation,
they bring their Germany with them; then, after that, they are
Americans, like you." He tapped his host's big knee genially. "You are
patriot; so are they."

"Well, I reckon you must be a pretty hot little patriot yourself, Mr.
Farver!" Sheridan exclaimed, gaily. "You certainly stand up for your
own town, if you stick to sayin' you'd rather live there than