newness not so much of phraseology as of outlook.
"This is a new life," Teddie gravely continued, "and I've got to get in step with it or get walked over. There are people down here who have the gift of making poverty romantic, people who can turn an empty pocketbook into a sort of adventure. They can eat onion soup and spaghetti au gratin and wash cold-storage capon down with that eau-de-quinine stuff they drink and be happy on it because they know they are free, free to express themselves as they want to express themselves, free to work and live and think, and come and go as they like. And that's wonderful, Uncle Chandler, when you come to think of it."
Uncle Chandler sat thinking this over, with no ponderable amount of enthusiasm on his face.
"And just how do you intend expressing yourself?" he asked as the samovar began to bubble.
"I think it will be in color," said Teddie with the utmost solemnity. "I began with
