"
In quiet perusal of the news he spent the first part of his evening. The
war did not bother him to-night, for there had come a lull in the fighting,
as though even war could know its place. And times were better over here.
As, skipping all news from abroad his eye roved over the pages for what his
business depended upon, Roger began to find it now. The old familiar
headliness were reappearing side by side--high finance exposures, graft,
the antics and didos cut up by the sons and daughters of big millionaires;
and after them in cheery succession the Yale-Harvard game, a new man for
the Giants, a new college building for Cornell, a new city plan for
Seattle, a woman senator in Arizona and in Chicago a "sporting mayor." In
brief, all over the U.S.A., men and women old and new had risen up, to
power, fame, notoriety, whatever you chose to call it. Men and women?
Hardly. "Children" was the better word. But the thought did not trouble
Roger to-night. He had instead a heartening sense of the youth, the wild
exuberance, the boundless vigor in his native land. He could feel it rising
once again. Life was soon to go on as before; people were growing hungry to
see the names of their countrymen back in the headlines where they
belonged. And Roger's business was picking up. He was not sure of the
figure of his deficit last week--he had always been vague on the
book-keeping side--but he knew it was down considerably.
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