"Shall it be said we are clothed in male armor?" shrieked the general.
The murmur became a mumble.
"Will you," fiercely demanded the general, "show the white feather in a season when feathers are not worn?"
The effect was electrical.
"Never!" roared the soldiers. And, forming into battle array, they once more hurled themselves upon the enemy.
"You criticize us," said the Chinese visitor, "yet I see all your women have their feet bandaged."
"That is an epidemic," it was explained to him, gently, "which broke out in 1914. Those are called spats."
Little Tommy at the "movies" saw a tribe of Indians painting their faces, and asked his mother the significance of this.