THE group programs, the mass activities, and the public functions abroad were merely external phases of the adventure, delightful to be sure; but the life in the homes was the experience. The boys were invited by the families to live with them for a week or two as honorary guests in cities, towns, villages, and in the country. The leader distributed them singly, in pairs, or as many as each family wished to entertain. Little consideration was given to minor details, such as the financial status of the hosts, their occupations, their preferences for boys from certain geographical sections, or the boys' special qualities, athletic or scholastic ability, or church denominations. It was taken for granted that such incidental factors would count for little against the major one that the boys were able to act as gentlemen under all circumstances. Consequently they were scattered indiscriminately, almost at random. Deliberately the leader took a chance, on the assumption that fine boys and fine people would always be able to associate with one another regardless of nationality, religion, and occupation.

The boys were curious, and in many cases worried, as to what their hosts-to-be would be like. Generally speaking, they knew foreigners only from what little they had studied about them in geography and history, and from what they had heard and seen of them in the United States. It was perfectly natural that a Pennsylvania boy of sixteen, well educated and refined, most seriously asked the leader: "Is it actually so that all Swedes are cooks?" It would not have been a surprise if he jokingly had asked whether they all were square heads; but he explained his unusual question by saying: "That's what they all are around Philadelphia." Others did not know at all what to expect, but were perfectly willing to try anything once. Undoubtedly they were certain that they, for a while anyhow, could manage anywhere and with any people. Imagine, therefore, a boy's dismay---out of fairness to the other boys it must be mentioned that he was the baby of the group, only thirteen years old---when, on his first walk ashore, people in the streets turned around, stared at him, and laughed. Almost in tears, he swore that he wasn't going to wear white knickers abroad any more, He had expected to find many peculiar things, but that he should look odd never occurred to him.

It is impossible to give the complete story of the happenings in all the individual homes. Here only a sketchy account can be made, based on typical cases. Forgiveness must be asked for the omission of names, because most of the information used for the following pages was supplied in private interviews or personal letters to the leader. The following paragraphs are typical of the boys' individual activities and of their incidental comments on people, things, and conditions.

Aarhus (Alone): "Summer place. Old family. Talked politics with the host, a very nationalistic man. Talked French with the hostess. Daughter of 19 had so much back of her, university undergraduate. Host prejudiced against America, but he changed. Walked in the woods. Helped me to buy souvenirs. Visited their friends and danced at impromptu parties. Played games at home and had excellent swimming every day. An ideal home." Copenhagen (Four boys) : "Different life. Humorous, kind-hearted man, amused by Americans. Took us on many drives in a German car with seven gears. At our own liberty. Key to house. Cleaned and laundered all our clothes. Got up late. Host worked all day." (Age 19.)

Vejle (Alone) : "Was homesick for the first week. The pleasant home life made me think of home. Son 15 and daughter 9. The family spoke English a little bit. Took me to the old town Ribe and to Germany. Didn't find Germany very different from Denmark." Oslo (Alone) "My host was a doctor. Son who spoke English. Enjoyed him very much." Copenhagen (Alone) : "Asked host how he had expected me, and he replied that all he knew about me was my name. Had a good time there. Got to know the people well. Took me to circus and to Tivoli. Went canoeing often. Went sight-seeing on motor cycle." (Age 16.)

Bornholm (Pair) : "On a farm. Fine people. One evening a little party. Stayed mostly at home and read and talked. On a few picnics, and the family was always along. Got a little bit tired of the very quiet life, because I was not used to living on a farm." Oslo (Alone) "In a summer home on an island for four days, then in the city. Two children in the family, 15 and 23. Married son visited a lot. Spoke good English. Went somewhere all the time. Very interested in doing things for me. The home was very pleasant and reminded me very much my own family. Met many people. It was one big party." Copenhagen (Pair) : "Liked my host here best of all. Did everything for us. Had traveled in most parts of the world. Said that he knew how it felt to be entertained and told us to do things on our own. Knew he would not like to be dragged around all the time. Got us passes, to a great many places. Had wonderful collection of books, paintings, silver, glasses, etc." (Age 18.)

Aalborg (Alone) : "Mother and father and two daughters in family. At first thought I wouldn't like it. After we became acquainted I liked everything very much. They didn't try to overdo the entertainment. They had a motorboat and took me on several trips." Rjukan ( "Had a great time. Entirely different from Aalborg." Copenhagen, (Alone) : "Daughter and son in family, he a university undergraduate. Liked him very much. My host and hostess were just like a mother and father to me." (Age 17.)

Odense (Pair) : "The baron and baroness were lovely to us and entirely different from what I had expected nobility to be. Treated us just like members of the family and were almost Americans, yet I felt the Danish atmosphere all the time. We were given all luxuries. Had the time of our lives." Oslo (Alone) : "The family here were not so rich, but were very good to me. The host was away most of the time, but the hostess let me have the key to the house and come and go as I pleased. Went about the city a great deal and saw everything of interest." Copenhagen (Pair) : "This was the place! Have never imagined I could have such a good time. The two weeks flew by before I knew of it. The family drove me everywhere on day trips, usually a hundred miles. Saw every place of interest on the island." (Age 17.)

Gothenburg (Alone) : "In the country. Two daughters 19 and 17 and one son of 12. Had a quiet time, but nice. Sat at home every evening and played cards. Had two motorboats. Spent much time on the lake and bicycle riding. Every Sunday out for automobile drives. Drove into Gothenburg twice with the host." Oslo (Pair) : "Were treated like princes. The hostess didn't speak much English, but the host did. Went into the city every day, saw all the museums, and at night visited people or went to theaters. Met many nice families." Copenhagen (Pair): "Right in the city. Didn't like it at first, because we had to climb three flights of stairs. Wanted to be moved. After a very short time we found the people were so nice that we didn't want to leave. They were lovely." (Age 17.)

Stockholm (Alone): "Ten miles from Stockholm. Liked being alone much better than being with another American boy, because I got much closer to the family that way. Of six sons three were at home. Second oldest son was writing a book in German. Lived real vacation life, with swimming, driving, and boating. Didn't see any of the American fellows at all." Elsinore (Pair) : "Son and daughter much younger. Had a very nice time. All the families around Elsinore who had American boys were always giving parties for us. We formed a regular little colony. There were many group activities. Felt more at home in Sweden, as the family spoke perfect English and I was alone with them." (Age 18.)

Fyn, Denmark (Alone on a farm): "The people are fine. There is a father and a mother and a 22-year-old daughter who speaks English very well. They have invited a girl cousin from Copenhagen about my age while I am here. It is a large 200-acre farm with many pigs, horses, hens, etc. There is acre after acre of wheat, rye, oats, and barley. They are planning all sorts of parties and trips to castles and museums. F----- (another American boy) is on a neighboring farm, though I have not seen him yet. What you taught us on the boat comes in very handy, because I sometimes surprise the folks by using Danish phrases." (Age 15.)

Lolland, Denmark (Pair) "Things are coming along in great style. It took us about two minutes to become good friends with the Captain. He has been all over the world, even to Los Angeles. He has a very quaint place. It covers about 500 acres in all. The foundation of the house was built in 1100 and the rest finished in 1600. It stands just as it was built, with the same stairs, floors, etc. Around the whole house is a moat which was built in the old days for protection. In this are fish, wild ducks, and swans; and, at different points, quaint old bridges have been built. P----- and K----- (two American boys) are coming over here tomorrow, and Saturday we are invited to their place. Well, Doc, I think I'll get my bike and go for a ride." (Age 17.)

LENDING A HAND ON THE FARM

A DANISH COW MILKED BY AN AMERICAN BOY

Baja, Hungary (Alone) : "This is a fascinating town, very picturesque indeed. The house is interesting. The plaster walls are covered with paintings like old missions. The floors are brick and stone. The people are very nice. They eat all the time, and wonder why I can't eat all that they do. The two girls speak English; so we get along nicely. We have lots of fun. Yesterday I was all day on the Danube, and my back and arms are quite burned. The river is dirty, but a nice one to swim in---sandy bottom, shore, etc. I have been visiting all the interesting places in Baja---churches, studios, banks, peasant homes, shops, and coffee houses." (Age 18.)

Hungary (Alone): "I am safely in the hands of my host. No one here speaks English, but I'll get along all right." (Age 18.) The Hague, Holland (Pair) "Host retired from the East Indies. Mother, daughter 22, and son 21. All spoke English. Met us at the station and went to the home by trolley. We sat around in the living room and talked a lot, then went to the beach, and in the evening all to a German movie. Met the son's friend. Celebrated the mother's birthday at a party of twenty-six people. Most of the guests talked English, and we fitted in perfectly---the best party I've ever attended. They hired a car and took us to the Zuider Zee and Marken and Amsterdam. Showed us the Peace Palace and everything around The Hague. One evening to a party at their friends', and another to the graduation of the son. Went to a Dutch musical show. We told them of America, our government, states, cities, houses, etc. We liked everything a lot. Everything pleasantly different from what I had expected. Different eating, manners, and bicycles." (Age 18.)

In their youthful frankness the boys disclosed the small things on which hinged the outcome of the hospitality stay. They may seem trivial, but to the boys they were all-important. Often has the question been asked how long it took them to feel at ease or at home with the host families. The time varied. One said: "I was worried stiff from the time I left California. All across the continent and the Atlantic, I feared the moment I should meet those foreigners. But when a man came up to me on the railway platform in a small town in Denmark, shook my hand, and said: 'I am very happy to meet you, Tom,' all my worries disappeared and I felt at home right then and there, and did so all the time I was in his home." Other boys took a longer time in breaking the ice, but never as long as many had expected. Most often a couple of hours sufficed, although there were those who required a day or two. A few never fitted in at all.

Naturally food would help a great deal to break down barriers, and it was in ways fortunate that the Scandinavians took five meals a day, and in between meals coffee and cake, tea and pastry, or some other sort of edibles. So, if the barriers were never broken, it cannot be blamed on the lack of food. What happened, however, if you could not eat all the time, or all that was served; if you were fed and fed again, and yet had a limit to your appetite? It resulted in what one boy said: "I ate and ate, yet they thought I was starving and would offer me another helping!"

The worst problems arose when eating customs differed from those of Americans. Such differences often were not known by either party, and were sometimes interpreted in the wrong way. There was, for example, the matter of leaving food on your plate. This came very much to the front during the first meal of a Stockholm group. Breakfast was being served in the railway station, and at the end of the meal the Swedish committee secretary rushed up to the American leader and in a very excited tone said: "Mr. Ernst, these boys are very bad boys. Look, they leave ham and eggs on their plates." He was thinking of all the distinguished Swedish families who were on the point of receiving them in their homes, where it is the sign of the worst possible table manners to leave anything on one's plate. The explanation of the custom is simply that you are supposed to take only as much as you can finish, and if you want more you are served again. No wonder that Mr. Ernst fervently implored every boy never to leave a single bite on his plate. But think of the job when they had five meals every day, and coffee and cake in between!

Almost as difficult was the job of observing the Scandinavian custom which makes it an unavoidable obligation to thank the hostess after every meal. Time after time, boys who have been entertained abroad will meet the leader with the phrase "Tak for Mad," which simply means "Thank you for the meal," and they will second that phrase by shaking hands with him. Is it necessary to add that a big smile will accompany this performance? It is simply in vivid remembrance of the dozens of times they went through the same motions after countless meals abroad, and heard the hostess reply: "Velbekomme" (I hope you have enjoyed it). It was one of those many customs which at first looked strange, but which gradually, after practice, became---well, just an old Danish custom.

But did they like the food? After all, this was an important question, and there were few who did not answer with a big yes. Of course, they often encountered something quaint---so quaint that they did not even discover what it tasted like. There was the boy in Hungary who was treated to the comb of a rooster, and another who at his first dinner in a Swedish home was served the greatest of Swedish delicacies---crawfish. "My success with crawfish was not astonishing, and no guardian angel came to my aid," he wrote later. "It seems that crawfish has an armor that is almost impregnable to all but Swedes. At least, I tried for a long time to penetrate its defence with the young saber which was given me, until at last I gave up in despair, making the lame excuse that I never did like that delicacy, anyhow." Soups made out of fruit fared no better. Speaking of fruit, let us not omit the one unforgettable, all-overshadowing glory of Danish dishes--- Rødgrød. This was consumed by the gallon in practically every Danish home, and many an American mother has afterwards been presented with the recipe. Probably none of them has ever succeeded in producing what was the favorite dessert, and a treat when boys and host families returned from hikes, bicycle or motor rides, and retreated to the pantry to revel in the jello-like red fruit masses, with thick cream poured over, which constitute Danish Rødgrød. The boys will have to go back to its homeland to find it, and on their way they will probably still be trying to twist their tongues in futile attempts to pronounce the word.

But what about the liquor problem? This question was naturally asked by many American parents and educators. The reply was simply that there was no liquor problem abroad. But it was necessary to convey to the boys the foreign attitude towards alcoholic beverages. It would not be fair not to let them know it before they entered the homes, because lack of knowledge of conditions might embarrass them as well as their hosts. So they were prepared to find wine and beer on the table, as salt and pepper are found in America, and to see them taken by the natives in the same way---that is, with the meals. That the boys had discussed their partaking of wine and beer with their parents and had decided with them what to do was taken for granted by the leader, and treated by him as a personal matter between them. His duty was to explain that nobody abroad would want them either to eat or to drink anything to which they objected or feel hurt by their partaking or not partaking. Unquestionably they were asked in practically every single home about their attitude towards liquor. One boy said: "My host asked me if I liked wine, and told me not to take it if I didn't. I noticed that they never drank to excess." "I didn't touch a drop of liquor on the whole trip," said another boy. He used his own discretion, as did the others, and without embarrassment to anybody.

It was inevitable that in public they should see people drink between meals and that they should sample the various liquors themselves, especially in the places which are called American Bars, and which do a good business with tourists and with natives who have nothing better to occupy them. It is worth mentioning that only three cases came to the attention of the leader concerning boys who disgraced themselves in public, and this out of a group of almost seven hundred boys, ranging in age from fourteen to twenty-four, who had no other restrictions placed on them than their own sense of gentlemanliness. If there had been more cases, people would not have hesitated to broadcast it, in view of the lamentable reputation Americans have acquired during the prohibition epoch.

In the homes they had great fun in watching the procedure at parties, seeing guests raise their glasses, bow towards other guests, toast them by saying "Skaal," and bow again, all very formally and with great dignity; hear them make speeches, and finish with short cheers of Hurrah! Hurrah! and at times even conclude with a song in honor of the particular person who was being fêted. The boys could join. actively in this feature of the celebration, and great was the surprise of the Danes when they heard them lustily join in the Danish singing. It was one of the results of their Danish lessons on board the steamer, where they had learned the favorite drinking song: "Og dette skal være Hr. Jensen til Ære" (And this is in honor of Hr. Jensen), "han skal leve" (May he live long!; and finishing with "Bravo, bravo, bravo, BRAVISSIMO!"

If they had not been informed of the customs in regard to beverages abroad, conditions would undoubtedly have struck them as peculiar and confusing, as they did an American woman visitor who was a militant defender of the Eighteenth Amendment. She was entertained at dinner in one home where she found the family unusually religious, according to Danish standards, and in every way leading a beautiful home life with their children. "But they had wine for dinner, and the son took it, too," she commented. It was confusing indeed, because, as the visitor remarked, it was a fine Christian family with all the highest attributes of educational and intellectual living!

Truly it did not take long to find out that there was no liquor problem abroad, as far as family life was concerned. As a matter of act, water was almost a greater problem. Not that water was not to be had---and good water at that---but you had to ask for it; and ore than one Scandinavian hostess was perplexed when she was asked for a glass of ice water for breakfast! It was still more perplexing in countries where they grow wine, as in Hungary, and in France, where water simply isn't a beverage. There it was almost a fight to get it.

Not the thought of beer and wine, but the thought of food---mountains of food---this is what stands out in the boys' memories of Scandinavian meals, which made them add pounds to their weight---visible pounds in the opinion of one of the headmasters, who regularly selected students for the trips. "I like these trips," he once said. "Usually boys who go abroad return emaciated because they spend all their money during the first two weeks and starve during the rest of the stay. But these fellows return with a real waistline. The last three boys who returned had gained on an average of seven pounds."

The housing was most on the minds of the boys, next to food. They had no idea at all of the dwellings abroad, except from motion pictures; and, according to them, they would probably have to live in cottages, castles, or cathedrals, or, as a smart boy said, in museums. And in Scandinavia, way up there in the North near the North Pole, they probably lived in snow huts!

It was with no little anxiety that they crossed the thresholds of their temporary homes, and several surprised them in one way or another. It was amusing to hear them report on the results. "I am in a home right on the ocean, with fifteen rooms and four servants, and there are three bathrooms, and we have a yacht," reported one boy; and it evidently relieved him, coming as he did from a large New York mansion. Others reported that they were apparently in a "fairly small establishment." That is how a five-room apartment looked to them, used as they were to having Americans of similar standing to the Scandinavian hosts live in separate houses. They soon found out that thousands of such people abroad live in apartments, and, what seemed quite as quaint, in down-town districts. In one of the interviews quoted above, it is noticed that such an apartment bothered two boys so much that they found it unbearable at first sight, particularly because they had to climb three flights of stairs! And what about a bank president of a small provincial town, whose bank was on the ground floor, with his apartment above, and all of it not too big to be placed in the safe deposit vault of a good-sized Boston bank? Wouldn't that be sufficient to puzzle the son of a Boston investment broker? One boy was in a village in Hungary, where the family moved together into one room to leave their guest one bedroom in their tiny four-room house. This verily proves the truth of the adage, "Where there is a heart, there is a room."

There were surprises, too, when they found themselves on big estates, sometimes in small palaces. Two boys reported that they were the guests of a Count who had seven castles. They lived in just one of them, but had the time of their lives investigating its collection of armor and finding hidden doors and secret passageways. One boy with a Swedish duke was in the wing of the castle, with a number of other guests, among whom was the son of the crown prince of Sweden. It must have given his father and mother quite a thrill to have that wing referred to as "Henry's wing" by the duchess, when they paid the Swedish family a visit the following year. What parents would not want their son to be remembered kindly in competition with a prince? That Henry's next host was a famous surgeon who lived in an atmosphere of science at one of the city hospitals in Copenhagen is added just by way of contrast, as is the fact that the fellow from the tiny house in Hungary had as his last host the leading oil magnate of Denmark. "My, you should have heard the tires of their smart roadster crack the gravel of the driveway," he said, "and at dinner see the glasses match the color of our hostess's dress! But just the same, I wouldn't have missed the house in Hungary for anything."

Good food and a bed to sleep in---this is what satisfies most travelers, and what all tourists abroad can get if they only have money with which to pay for it and if they know how to ask for it. To the boys, meals and beds came without the asking; but would they be able to talk with the people? The language was one of their worries before they left the United States. It hardly seemed to relieve them when the leader assured them that in practically every family there would be someone who could understand and even speak a little English; and if not, there would be somebody around the house, a friend or neighbor, who would help out. He was sure of this, and was just joking when he suggested that they had better learn a few foreign languages before going ashore. What would they do if they got lost in the streets of Copenhagen, or Berlin, or Amsterdam?

The voluntary classes in Danish on board the steamers were great fun. What a surprise to find boys who never had cared for foreign languages more than college board requirements had forced them to, practising queer words as if their lives depended upon it! The astounding fact is that they actually succeeded in learning a good deal, and they practised it on the crew and the officers on board. At least a thousand times the chief steward was met with "God Morgen, Hr. Jensen," and the bar tender with the question, "Hvad koster det?" (How much is it?) When they stepped ashore they were eager to use what they had learned. One very appropriate phrase was "Taler De Engelsk?" (Do you speak English?) But why would anyone want to learn the phrase "Taler De Dansk?" (Do you speak Danish?) Who would ask a Dane if he could speak his native tongue? Well, one tried the question in very distinct and good pronunciation on a taxi-driver. He first stared in blank amazement, and then answered: "You bet I do, buddy," which proved that immigrants return from the States, where they have picked up a few colloquialisms on the sidewalks of New York.

In the homes it was different. There were often boys and girls who had learned English at school and who were glad to use it when they got the opportunity. At first the natives were a little embarrassed, but that changed, particularly when the boys realized that they should speak slowly to be understood. It was no use rattling off words at the usual rate of speed; that was lost effort. Never before have American boys taken so much pains to talk slowly and distinctly and to eliminate all big words from their language. You would hear them deliberately and painstakingly address a person: "It-is-a-great-pleasure-to-meet-you" in a manner that reminded one of a sermon. But it helped, and soon conversation would be flowing smoothly. Most typical was a case where a boy was invited to a party with a great many Norwegian boys and girls and was warned that they could not speak English. "Well," he said after the party, "not a Norwegian word was spoken all evening. To begin with, they were just scared to speak English because they had never practised it."

Of course, it was a treat to enter a home where you were immediately greeted with "How do you do?" as naturally as if the person had been imported directly from London or Boston. But just as much fun it afforded to find a home where hardly any English seemed to be spoken, and gradually assist the members of the family in putting their English foot forward. Some boys at first took the knowledge or lack of knowledge of English as a measurement of the education of the people, but they soon found out that this would not do, in view of the fact that many of the family members knew two or three other languages. Then it was their turn to feel deficient in education.

After all, food, beds, and language were simply the foundation which offered the opportunity of finding out what the people abroad actually were like---their ideas on intellectual, social, and political matters; their appreciation of art and education; their way of doing business; their interest in other people; in short, their attitude towards life. All this was seen only with boys' eyes and judged only with their limited understanding; but, knowing the keenness of boys, it was clear that nothing would escape their observations or evade their frank opinions. On the return trips, the leader made a practice of asking them individually what had impressed them the most. The following excerpts from these statements, without pretending to be complete, cover fairly well their range of observations. They mostly concern Denmark, because it was visited by practically all of them.

"Before embarking for Denmark, I had a somewhat hazy impression of a small, poverty-stricken country. I pictured myself landing in a cold, uninteresting land. How my idea was changed in one short month! I found myself in a beautiful, happy little country, so well described by its own national anthem as a 'charming land.' " (Age 17.)

"The economical farm methods, their utter cleanliness impressed me. For instance, the cows were all chained in line, in order that the fields may be eaten systematically. The streets were constantly being cleaned, and the spotless boats also portrayed the Danish cleanliness." (Age 19.) [Imagine the boy who was on the point of throwing his cigarette stump away and suddenly discovered that there was not a speck of rubbish to be seen in the street, and put the stump in his pocket!]

"The modernness of the city impressed me greatly. I expected to see a small town with poorly dressed people. Instead, I found a large city, very metropolitan, and with very well-dressed citizens. The buildings, the streets, and all the city were right up-to-date." (Age 17.)

"Even the very poorest of them put everything they had into developing their homes. Everyone who could afford it maintained beautiful gardens and pretty houses. This fact impressed me the more in contrast to Americans, who have their club life and other outside activities." (Age 16.)

It may be that associating with the people added special charm to the physical aspects of their land, that their personal kindness "sold" the places to the boys. They must have felt, however, that the people were truly proud of their country, or it would not have been observed by several:

"Another thing which I had not known was their extreme patriotism. Every house had a Danish flag flying. When songs were sung, the Danes joined in heartily." (Age 15.)

"The Danes were intensely patriotic." (Age 16.)

"Their love for and interest in the past impressed me. It is remarkable to find a people whose history is so old and involved and yet whose knowledge of that history is accurate and beloved." (Age 18.)

The people's attitude towards business, their way of conducting it, and their concern for everyday work was of extreme interest, particularly to American boys. From some of their comments it would seem that the Scandinavians never worked, or at least rarely took their tasks seriously. Others indicated that the methods looked slack, but that results proved this impression false.

"The way in which the Danes managed their business impressed me. Everything was done in a leisurely manner, yet nothing was left undone. They did not 'put on airs,' and they were extremely sincere, intellectually well-grounded, and honest." (Age 21.)

"They seemed hard-working but happy-go-lucky. When they went out for a good time, they went whole-heartedly and had a good time. In some things they seemed very thorough. I don't know much about American road building, but they were building a road near where I stayed in Copenhagen, and I had a chance to wonder at the thoroughness with which it was built. I'll bet it will still be in fine shape fifty years from now." (Age 20.)

"Everything was arranged to perfection. The same punctuality and niceness of arrangements were shown throughout our stay. I have never imagined that things could be so well arranged for such a large party, and all things were carried through with hardly a hitch." (Age 17.)

Day after day they were living with the people, close not only to public activities but also to all the manners and customs of the individual families, to which, moreover, they were submitted. This presented the greatest difficulty but also the greatest opportunity. We know well how easily people of different nationalities associate it, public affairs, in business, science, and the professions. That has been proved at international assemblies, conventions, and meetings. It is quite another thing to live in the same house, share its conveniences or lack of conveniences, eat and play together---in short, be as close to one another as only members of a household can be. This is a true test of sociability. How easily we get on each other's nerves!

Small things like the customs of politeness differed considerably in the various countries. What was customary politeness in one country was entirely out of place in another country. A refined Hungarian would, as a matter of course, kiss the hand of a lady, where an American would not even shake hands with her, and the Frenchman would just as naturally embrace a man and kiss him on both cheeks. Anyone ignorant of these facts and suddenly submitted to them would be greatly embarrassed, and, what was worse, his ignorance might be misinterpreted. The only excuse which could be put up for him was that he was a "foreigner who didn't know any better."

Looking upon it from the boys' angle, there were plenty of customs which would have shocked them if they had not been advised beforehand. Examples have already been given of table manners, where the Scandinavian custom of finishing everything on the plate might look like the highest degree of greediness or a petty fear of waste. And how would the custom of keeping the knife and fork in the hands all the time impress them, if not as a very caveman-like way of eating?! Or that of looking upon an elevator as a public conveyance in which. you do not remove your hat in the presence of ladies? There was the habit of boys and girls "going Dutch" in restaurants, which from a boy's point of view seems very convenient, yet rather shocking to one coming from a country where the obligation of taking care of the whole bill is considered the privilege of a gentleman.

In view of these examples, the stay in homes abroad would seem like an adventure in a jungle of bad manners from which it would be a man-sized job to extricate oneself. This is how two boys put it: "Denmark may be all right, but the women have no manners at all!" Then they told how their hostess would say to them at the door of the dining room, "Step right in, boys!" and would stand at the table until all were seated, supervising the seating. It never occurred to her that they would not think of preceding her or any other lady into the dining room, and that one of them would stand as erect as a candle behind her chair and the other at his seat until she was seated. "She had no manners at all," they said, with a twinkle in their eyes. "But that changed, and after a while she would lead the procession into the dining room, have her chair placed right under her, and act like a real lady. Sure, she had manners when we left!"

It required a gentleman and a keen understanding of differences in manners to handle a situation like that in such a way that it became an amusing joke to either party. Of course, this particular custom would be looked upon by ladies abroad as courteous because it was so obvious in its chivalrous intention, while other manners were incomprehensible. One lady said to her guest: "Why are you running around me whenever we have crossed the street?" In strict adherence to his custom of being on the street side of the sidewalk, he was constantly running around his companion, who would have expected him on her left-hand side if she had been very formal. Time after time this remark was heard in the homes: "Why don't you sit down, boys?" They were willing enough; but how could they, as long as the hostess was moving around in the same room? The constant jumping up from chairs whenever the hostess or any other lady member of the family entered the room was also a subject for constant native remarks, and not until the boys were told that it was not expected did they settle in the atmosphere which was a bit unusual to them---the atmosphere of equality between the two sexes, particularly in Scandinavia, Germany, and Holland. It is only fair to add that this equality was considered by some boys as a lack of regard for the women, as a sign of an old-fashioned European custom on the part of the men of not paying due respect to the weaker sex. Most of them, however, enjoyed it. It was to them a sign of a democratic spirit. They liked to see everybody treat everybody else alike, and to do so themselves.

"The thing that impressed me the most was the lack of class distinction, which is so prominent in our country." (Age 18.)

"The poorest carried themselves just as the rich, and were just as hospitable, or more so." (Age 15.)

"The democracy of the people impressed me, especially at Tivoli, where rich and poor mingled. No one seemed to care to whom he spoke." (Age 15.)

On this background of purely native conditions and the boys' confinement to foreign activities, one little thing pleased them very much, because it pointed directly in the direction of America and Americans. It is expressed in the following statements:

"The interest of the people in us, what we did, our country, and our sports impressed me greatly." (Age 16.)

"A thing which impressed me was the great respect for the United States in which the Danes hold them." (Age 16.)

"The first night I was greeted with the dining room being decorated with the American flag, which helped me to feel at home." (Age 16.)

"My hostess said that America did a great service for Denmark in the great war, and she was only too glad to offer her humble services in showing her gratitude." (Age 20.)

From what has been described and commented upon on these last pages, it is but natural that we should turn to the very core of the hospitality stay---to those small, purely personal incidents which occur to people who are very closely attached to one another. They happen in homes all over the world where there is an undercurrent of friendship and love. Would it, however, be possible to find such incidents in a home abroad, among the experiences of native families and foreign boys? Could more be expected than food, a bed, interesting things to see, novel conditions to watch, and people to show you around ?

The stay abroad would not be pictured completely if mention were not made of such personal incidents as made the boys' relation with the host families not one of welcome guests only, but of dear friends. Quite often they jokingly referred to their hosts and hostesses as their Danish, Norwegian, Swedish, German, Hungarian, or Dutch "fathers and mothers," and several small things truly put them in the place of "sons" for the time being.

"More than once my host took his valuable time to point out on city maps the location of such and such a place and give me notes for the street-car conductor or taxi-driver. One of my hosts learned that I liked a certain brand of cigarettes. That night I had them." (Age 18.)

"I was going into town once, and my host not only bought my ticket into Copenhagen but even bought me a return ticket. This was certainly going out of the way to do unto others as you would they should do unto you." (Age 18.)

"They gave a birthday party for me with ten girls and ten fellows. It was the best party I have ever had." (Age 17.)

"One evening, just before we started for a party, the brother-in-law of my host grabbed my, hand, much to my surprise, looked at it quizzically, and then asked me: 'Has anyone died in your family?' I was dumbfounded for a moment, but when he noticed my surprise he explained to me that that was the Danish way of telling a person that his fingernails were dirty. Of course, I laughed, but I was careful to learn a lesson from that thereafter, at least in Denmark." (Age 14.)

It is not surprising that the boys in most cases summed up their impressions in the two words---true hospitality. They would then elaborate upon them, and often do it in very striking boyish language; as the boy who used a figure of speech from his experience on the Atlantic, and said: "Nowhere in the world is there such hospitality as that found in Denmark. It was like the deck of the boat on a rough day. It came right up and hit you. It was something that gave all and expected nothing." (Age 17.) For Denmark some would put in the name of one of the other countries where they had enjoyed hospitality. Regardless of what other wonderful traveling experiences they had had abroad, what famous places they had visited as tourists, or what overwhelming scenery they had watched, their minds kept turning back to the people they had come to look upon as their friends. As one boy expressed it: "We met that mysterious person 'My Friend Abroad' " (Age 19) ; and another who had visited Switzerland after his hospitality stay in Holland made this remark: "Sure, Switzerland was marvellous, but that was scenery. Holland was people, you see." (Age 21.)

He had hit it right on the head. "Holland was people"---the real people of the country, there as in the other hospitable countries. They put life into the nations, by revealing them in work and play, in action and rest, in beauty and simplicity. The countries might have been nothing in which the boys were vitally interested, significant only as places to visit; but through contacts with their people they became realities, living organisms to which they became attached so closely that they became concerned about their activities as nations, wanted to follow what happened to them, their ups and downs, their mishaps or progress, and even to rejoice with them in their victories and share their sorrows in defeats---and this just by having shared the life of the smaller living organisms, the individual families, which gave life to the larger body, the nation itself.

With the hospitality experience, new ideas dawned. In several cases, thoughts were prompted by the discovery which a boy expressed in these words: "The thing that impressed me the most in Denmark was how different and yet how like us the Danish people are" (Age 18) ; and another boy by this: "Except for the language and customs of the country, I could have imagined I was a guest in some home in the United States. The gestures of the people when talking, their general habits, were not at all different from people I could name in America. And in my opinion it helps a lot to like and understand people when you feel that they are not so very unlike yourself." (Age 13.) He did not confine this to people of his own country; to him there was not a long step from one nationality to another. This conclusion was very plainly drawn by the boy who said: "Now I understand the Danes and 1 like them. It has entirely changed my idea of the world. I have come to like 'foreigners,' as others call them, because I now have friends in Denmark." (Age 17.)

Boys are inclined to draw very rash conclusions, but they are excusable when based on their own experiences and not instilled into them by clever orators or smart propagandists. It is better to have them make their own discoveries than to have others preach to them, and to have them express their youthful enthusiasm in their own words than repeat the elaborate versions of quasi-prophets' sermons. So let us finish this inside story by quoting a few such simple words: "The acquaintances which I have found and the friendships which I have made while in Denmark have awakened in me a new joy, a desire to live unselfishly, not for my own happiness, but that I may be a small contribution to the vast whole, the existence of which I had not entirely realized until setting foot on foreign soil, in dear old Denmark." (Age 18.)

The Danish consul had finished speaking, and as he seated himself at the long speaker's table in the large banquet hall, the keynote of his speech still rang in my ears: "... and when you touch soil once more, in Denmark, one hundred Danish fathers and mothers will be waiting to welcome one hundred American sons into their homes. Each one of you will be as a son to each family ... an American son in a Danish home."

Several fine speakers followed, but all through the evening my mind dwelt upon those words of the consul; and even in the morning, as we rode through the rain to the pier, as we boarded the S.S. Hellig Olav, as we steamed out of New York Harbor, still did those words come back to me, "An American son in a Danish home."

And then, after twelve days of ocean travel, the one hundred American boys set foot for the first time on Danish soil. We were enthusiastically received everywhere and the hospitality shown us was nothing short of marvelous. We all had many interesting experiences, but I think that element of Danish life which impressed us most was the hospitality and exceeding kindness of the Danes.

In the home where I stayed just outside of Copenhagen there were four members in the family: a father, a mother, and two sons, twelve and sixteen. The elder son spoke excellent English, as did the father; the mother spoke fairly intelligible English and a little French; while the younger son could speak no English whatsoever. Every member of that little family was exceedingly kind and generous, and there was no one thing that I might suggest or desire that they would not gladly go out of their way to do for me. From the moment I arrived at their home, I was truly, in the words of the consul, "an American soil in a Danish home."

As an example of the kindness of my hosts, I should like to relate one of my many happy experiences while in their midst. The afternoon before we departed, I sat out in the little pavilion beside the sea watching the ships pass, and, as I admired the beautiful panorama, I felt a light tap on my shoulder and looked up inquiringly into the face of my host. He smiled and sat down beside me. I liked to talk to my host, as he was very interesting and very versatile. We spoke about the sailboats which were in sight, and then he paused, took a few puffs from his pipe, and went on:

"Mogens just came to me a few minutes ago and told me to tell you that he had something to give you. He has bought it, whatever it is, without saying a word to us about it. Here he comes now."

The young boy ran up and handed me a little package neatly wrapped in pink paper and secured by a rubber band. He is one of the nicest boys of his age that I know and I would gladly take him for a brother. Then with a little bow he turned to go, and was about to run to the house when I grasped his arm and held him fast.

I pulled off the rubber band and unfolded the pink paper, to find beneath, in a wrapping of white tissue paper, a beautiful little matchbox of hammered tin with a little flower pressed out on the top. I could say nothing for the moment, for I realized what this little fellow had done---saved his money to buy this little gift for me, who had been a stranger to him but a few days before.

Perhaps the value of the little present was not great, but I know that it represented a lot of money to him and more---yes, a hundred times more---do I appreciate the thought he expressed when he gave me that than the price he paid for it.

This little incident represents but one of many kindnesses that were shown to me in Denmark. Though I may never use it, I shall keep that little match-box as long as I live; and as long as I have it, I shall remember the exceedingly kind and generous hospitality of the Danes. I shall long cherish many happy memories of the very enjoyable summer I spent in Denmark, and I shall always remember that country, not only as a "charming land" but as a land of charming people.

"Velkommen!" How familiarly like the sound of welcome in our own language, and given with all the sincerity of the welcome of an American mother! Such were the thoughts and impressions of my mind as I entered my first Danish home. From this hearty Danish welcome until the parting, a short week later, we learned what the people of Bornholm mean by hospitality.

It was my first home in Scandinavia and my first intimate acquaintance with the happy, industrious farming folk of Denmark. During my first week, I learned just how and why a small farm of twenty-five acres can give a comfortable income to a man who really has the desire to work and succeed.

When my host, as a young man, had obtained this little plot of Danish soil, it was a rocky, uninviting, and totally undeveloped piece of land. Nevertheless, with true Danish persistency, he set his young muscles to work; and, because of his labors, was able thirty years later to entertain and show two interested American boys the fruit of his labors.

It was his privilege to show us a profitable and beautiful farm with fields of waving grain, orchards of fine fruit trees, and green pastures dotted with many sleek cattle. He was able to show us his comfortable home, with its beautiful flower gardens, and to take us through his modern outbuildings with their up-to-date machinery.

He was not only able to show us these remarkable results of a life of toil, but also to tell us how he was able to carry on with the help of two stalwart sons; and thus, after the prime of his life was past, still glean from his little farm a comfortable living.

These interesting things we learned in our first week. We also learned miscellaneous other things. One was that Danish work horses are tricky creatures. One evening, with all good interest, I asked if I might ride one of the horses in from the field. This, like all my other desires, was instantly granted. I went tearing down the field on a saddleless, bridleless horse, right up to the low door going into the stable, and with great gusto I yelled whoa! No response! I had forgotten to learn the Danish word for stopping a hungry Danish horse; so the horse went on, and I remained hanging over the door! All the time was not spent wandering around the farm, envious of riding horses, but practically each day of that first week in Scandinavia was spent cycling or walking to those places of beauty for which Bornholm is famous.

The first day we went up to the highest point, from where we were able to see the whole picturesque island spread before us, and, in the distance beyond the silver of the sea, the vague shores of Sweden. Another day we saw one of the quaint Round Churches built two hundred years before Columbus decided to discover America. Still another day we took a long walk along the shores of the beautiful Baltic Sea; after which, to sooth our burning "dogs," we took a very short plunge into the rather cool waters of the Baltic! Thus it was that each day was different and new in its experiences.

The nights were spent for the most part at home. The family and guests were always eager to hear of America, of our homes, and about ourselves. All things of interest we told them, and then in return they ushered us through some of the mysteries of the Danish language. They taught us to ask for food and to say other things of equal importance.

Thus, in a great rush, that first week slipped by. Too soon we had to say good-bye to our new friends---the first we had made and therefore the ones most vivid in our minds.

The parting was as leaving a new home. For as such we had entered it, as such we had lived in it for one glorious week; and in the same way we shall remember it as a new home in Scandinavia.

No sooner had we landed on foreign soil, utterly ignorant of what was awaiting us, than we were rushed by train into all parts of Denmark to enjoy the thrills which we had come four thousand miles to experience. Imagine the thoughts which ran through our minds on that train ride! "Why am I in Denmark, above all other countries

I wondered as I gazed from the car window. All I could gain from the passing landscape was that the cows are tied in straight rows to keep them from eating too much grass.

I began to dream of a cosy little bungalow which would undoubtedly be my home for the next seven days. I could even picture the short, bright-eyed Dane coming in from work on the farm to welcome us. (I really expected all Danes to be short and serious like "Doc"!)

My dreams were cut short by the thumping of cars together as our engine ground to a stop in front of a white station house. Lo and behold! Here we were in Rødby, a town of a thousand inhabitants and an equal number of experiences for two American boys abroad. As we pulled our baggage from the train, a massive, middle-aged man strode up and held out his hand in welcome. One look at his size sent all my dreams a-flutter. Even that mistake was nothing when compared to my imaginings of bungalows; for a short ride in a large Italian car brought us to an immense château of thirty rooms, surrounded by a two-thousand-acre estate.

The average urban dweller in America cannot comprehend the comforts which these Danish estate owners are accustomed to enjoy. The Danes have long been noted for their many meals, yet most large châteaus can boast of a separate dining room for each meal of the day. The sitting room, music room, and sun porch were also extremely homelike and comfortable.

Our bedroom, no doubt typical in every respect, overlooked a wide expanse of lawn shaded by several lofty beeches. To the left was a garden of fruit trees and berry bushes, while to the right the lawn was shadowed by a group of evergreens traversed by many bridle paths. Beyond the hedge that marked the boundary stretched the vast sugarbeet fields, with their winding narrow-gauge railroads.

This was the extent of our knowledge of Danish people when we appeared for the first meal in our new home, and began our studies of Danish home life with its possibilities of world friendship. We already had one firm friend in our good-natured host, who had greeted us so warmly at the station. He had been a wanderer in his youth, had spent eighteen years on various engineering jobs in the United States, and was anxious to hear whatever we had to say about the country which he had left so long ago. Like all Danish estate owners, he led a leisurely life, supervising his large acreage of sugar beets and grain, and keeping an eye on several hundred head of cattle, horses, and pigs.

His wife, a small white-haired woman, was of extremely quiet temperament. She spoke no English whatever, but she understood our pleasures and difficulties like a real mother. Her chief delight consisted in entertaining the hundred and one nieces, nephews, and grandchildren, who came annually from all over Denmark to spend a few days at the château. Six nieces and two nephews came to visit during our stay. The many friends whom they invited in for tea every afternoon also added to our acquaintanceship. Friends abroad were the least of our worries in such a household!

The meals of the home seemed to be the most binding tie of the family, although the host and hostess seldom arose for breakfast. This typical Danish meal of coffee and rolls was generally served in the breakfast nook on the second floor.

The noon meal was of only three or four courses, because we seldom did anything during the morning but write letters or ride to town on our bicycles. The most unusual item in this meal was the dessert called "Tykmlk." Each night the maid placed ten bowls of milk on the window sill in the pantry. By the following noon the liquid had soured to a thick cheese-like substance. The Danes relish this with brown-bread crumbs and sugar.

Afternoon tea was most enjoyable, after a little exercise in the orchard or a swim at the beach. Almost invariably there were several guests present to make conversation interesting, and the Danish pastry never required a second invitation on those occasions.

Following tea we were accustomed to take a ride to a near-by town to visit some industrial plant or a noted point of interest. The host was a director of the sugar-beet factory, the condensed-milk plant, the bank, and almost any other establishment which we cared to visit. It is little wonder that we enjoyed our afternoons.

Dinner at seven was a full meal of five or six courses, and was enjoyed to the fullest extent by two American boys with hearty appetites. Soon after coffee, the dancing started to the tune of an old phonograph and a plentiful supply of Danish melodies, The evenings passed rapidly, with a large choice of partners; and the feather bed at eleven o'clock felt like seventh heaven to us.

I left my Danish host with memories of the happiest week I have ever spent away from home, and a firm conviction that Danish country life is a perfect background for the formation of sincere world friendships.

Thrills, action, surprises! That's what we received. An all-night ride in a European Pullman with fellows, each one of whom had "I wonder what tomorrow will unfold" written on his face, the arrival at Stockholm, breakfast in the station as guests of the Rotary Club, and a hurried tour of the city found us ready to meet our new parents. What would they. be like? How would they like us? Thousands of such questions emanated from the group of boys who waited impatiently for the time when their hosts would arrive. We felt as though we were being pawned off, we knew not where; but we were Americans, had come over three thousand miles to do this, and naturally were not going to do anything but see it through. I might add that suspense was prevalent.

Suddenly, before we realized what had happened, our hosts and hostesses had arrived and we were being introduced to them. What pleasant surprises! They were a group of the kindest-looking, most interesting people that I have ever seen. What was that? My name had been called, and I advanced, tingling with expectation, to meet my host.

He was a splendid fellow, spoke fine English, and immediately made me feel "at home." His wife had accompanied him. I was introduced to her, and she too was so different from what I had expected that I realized, when the rush of getting to their home was over, that the coming three weeks held much for me.

I determined to interest these people as they interested me, to try to give a little instead of merely take, and finally to understand them. Dinner was announced, and my mind was again filled with questions. I wondered how much difference there was between Scandinavian and American table manners, how closely these people would scrutinize me, and what would happen. I planned to pay the greatest attention to the way they ate and in the future to adopt their methods. Once seated at the table these questions were forgotten; for I was made to feel so at ease, and the differences I had imagined to be so vast were really so minute, that the feeling of uneasiness disappeared.

In the evening we sat and talked. My new friends were most anxious to learn more of America, and I did my best to enlighten them. I showed them pictures I had with me of famous places in America and answered their inquiries to the best of my ability. In turn my host explained to me that while I was living with them he considered me as his son. He gave me a key to the house, said I could come and go as I pleased, and added that if I wished he would take me to the various points of interest in the vicinity of Stockholm.

How could anyone feel strange in this environment? Although but a few hours had elapsed since I first met these people, I was beginning to like---yes, even more than like---them.

I was taken everywhere, shown everything of interest, introduced to intellectual and noteworthy personages, and the days were so filled with thrills, action, and delightful surprises that the first week slipped away and yet it seemed that but a day had passed.

"JEG KAN IKKE FORSTAA"
(I DO NOT UNDERSTAND YOU)

Chapter Twenty-Three
Table of Contents