“Do you know why the Statue of Liberty looks so sad, Frenchy?” a soldier asked. “Because she’s facing Brooklyn.”
“Do you know why she’s got her arm up?” another called.
Frenchy was puzzled.
“She represents the American woman hanging onto a strap in the subway.”
“Don’t let them jolly you, Frenchy,” another said.
Frenchy, a little bewildered, laughed good-humoredly as the bantering throng plied him with absurdities.
“Are you French?” Tom asked, as some new victim diverted the attention of the boys.
“Ah, no! I am Americ’.”
“But you were born in France?”
“Yess—zey call it Zhermany, but it is France! I take ze coat from you. Still it is yours. Am I right? I am born in Alsace. Zat is France!”