This youth appeared a fine specimen of the sane, wholesome,
successful young American business man. Yet he was behaving like a
madman, yelling like Bedlam, wildly flaunting his hat--a
splendid-looking Panama--now and then savagely brandishing his fists at
an unseen foe. Queed heard him saying fiercely, apparently to the world
at large: "They couldn't lick us now. By the Lord, they couldn't lick us
now!"
Queed said to him: "You were badly outnumbered when they licked you."
Flaunting his hat passionately at the thin columns, the young man
shouted into space: "Outnumbered--outarmed--outequipped--outrationed--but
not outgeneraled, sir, not outsoldiered, not outmanned!"
"You seem a little excited about it. Yet you've had forty years to get
used to it."
"Ah," brandished the young man at the soldiers, a glad battlenote
breaking into his voice, "I'm being addressed by a Yankee, am I?"
"No," said Queed, "you are being addressed by an American."
"That's a fair reply," said the young man; and consented to take his
eyes from the parade a second to glance at the author of it.
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