Pleased as I was with my notoriety--and nobody but I knew how exceedingly pleased--I had a sober feeling about it all.

I enjoyed being praised and admired and envied; but what gave a divine flavor to my happiness was the idea that I had publicly borne testimony to the goodness of my exalted hero, to the greatness of my adopted country.

I did not discount the homage of Arlington Street, because I did not properly rate the intelligence of its population.

I took the admiration of my schoolmates without a grain of salt; it was just so much honey to me.

I could not know that what made me great in the eyes of my neighbors was that "there was a piece about me in the paper"; it mattered very little to them what the "piece" was about.