"I don't know," says Mis' Sykes, "I don't know but pride is wicked. But I cannot help feeling pride that I've lived in Friendship Village for three generations of us, unbroken. And for three generations back of that we were American, on American soil, under the American flag—as soon as ever it got here."
"Was you?" I says. "Well, a strain of me is English, and a touch of me way back was Scotch-Irish; and I've got a little Welsh. And I'd like to find some Indian, but I haven't ever done it. And I'm proud of all them, Mis' Sykes."
Mis' Hubbelthwait spoke up—her that's never been able to get a plate really to fit her, and when she talks it bothers out loud.
"I got some of nearly all the Allies in me," she says, complacent.
"What?" says Mis' Sykes.
"Yes, sir," says Mis' Hubbelthwait. "I was counting up, and there ain't hardly any of 'em I ain't."
"Japanese?" says Mis' Sykes, withering. "How interesting, Mis' Hubbelthwait," says she.
"Oh, I mean Europe," says Mis' Hubbelthwait, cross. "Of course you can't descend from different continents. There's English—I've got that. And French—I've got that. And I-talian is in me—I know that by my eyes. And folks that come from County Galway has Spanish—"
"Spain ain't ally," says Mis' Fire Chief Merriman, majestic. "It's neuter."
"Well, there's that much more credit—to be allies and neuter," says Mis' Hubbelthwait triumphant.