Italian race, and Peter largely swayed public opinion both at Jasper Place and Willowbrook.
"It's somethin' awful," he declared, "the way this country's gettin' cluttered up with Dagoes. There ought to be a law against lettin' 'em come in."
In so far as he was concerned, Peter refused to let Vittorio come in; and the man was consigned to social darkness and the companionship of his plants. He did not seem to mind this ostracism, however, but whistled and sang at his work with unabated cheerfulness. His baby English shortly became the butt of everybody's ridicule, but as he never understood the jokes, he bore no grudge. The only matter in which he showed the slightest personal prejudice was the fact that they all persisted in calling him "Tony."
"My name no Tony," he would patiently explain half a dozen times a day. "My name Vittorio Emanuele, same-a de king."
Tony, however, he remained.
