Romance Island

As The Aloha rode gently to her buoy among the crafts in the harbour St. George longed to proclaim in the megaphone's monstrous parody upon capital letters: Cat-boats and house-boats and yawls look here. You're bound to observe that this is my steam yacht. I own her-do you see? She belongs to me St. George who never before owned so much as a piece of rope. Instead-mindful perhaps that a man should not communi-cate his own glorie-he stepped sedately down to the trim green skiff and was rowed ashore by a boy who for aught that either knew might three months before have jostled him at some ill-favoured lunch counter. For in America dreams of gold-not alas golden dreams-do prevalently come true; and of all the butterfly happenings in this pleasant land of larvae few are so spectacular as the process by which without warning a man is converted from a toiler and bearer of loads to a taker of his bien. However to none one must believe is the changeling such gazing-stock as to himself.