It required no fife and drum corps, no Fourth of July procession, to set me tingling with patriotism.

Even the common agents and instruments of municipal life, such as the letter carrier and the fire engine, I regarded with a measure of respect.

I know what I thought of people who said that Chelsea was a very small, dull, unaspiring town, with no discernible excuse for a separate name or existence.
The apex of my civic pride and personal contentment was reached on the bright September morning when I entered the public school.

That day I must always remember, even if I live to be so old that I cannot tell my name.

To most people their first day at school is a memorable occasion.