In twenty minutes or less we shall
be at the dock. Folks we know are there now, waiting to welcome
us.
As close as we can pack ourselves, we gather in the gangways.
Some one raises a voice in song. 'Tis not the Marseillaise hymn
that we sing, nor Die Wacht am Rhein, nor Ava Maria, nor God Save
the King; nor yet is it Columbia the Gem of the Ocean. In their
proper places these are all good songs, but we know one more
suitable to the occasion, and so we all join in. Hark! Happy
voices float across the narrowing strip of rolly water between
ship and shore:
"'Mid pleasures and palaces,
Though we may roam,
(Now then, altogether, mates:)
Be it ever so humble,
There's no place like
HOME!"
End of Europe Revised by Irvin S. Cobb
