"The writer will risk just one generalization which, it is hoped, the ultimate facts will bear out, that in the case of the new immigration we shall see a repetition of the story of the old immigrant we are so familiar with. First comes the ignorant and poor but industrious peasant, the young man, alone, without wife or family. For a few years he works and saves, living according to a 'standard of life' which shocks his older established neighbors, and we may guess would often shock his people at home. At first he makes plans for going back, sends his savings home, and perhaps goes back himself. But he usually returns to this country, with a wife. America has now become his home, savings are invested here, land is bought, and a little house built. The growing children are educated in American schools, learn American ways, and forcibly elevate the 'standard of life' of the family. The second generation, in the fervor of its enthusiasm for change and progress becomes turbulent, unruly, and is despaired of. [Sidenote: The Open Door] "But out of the chaos emerges a third generation, of creditable character, from whom much may be expected. Our Austrian, Hungarian, and Russian newcomers are still in the first and second stages, and there seems no good reason why they should not pull through successfully to the third. But in that endeavor we can either help or materially hinder them, according to our treatment of them, as employees, as producers, as fellow citizens. America, for her own sake, owes to the immigrant not only the opportunities for 'life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness' that she promises to every man, but a sympathetic appreciation of his humanity, and an intelligent assistance in developing it."[86] [Sidenote: How the Children Lead] This is a picture of progress in assimilation to be remembered, and the conclusion is admirably expressed. Assimilation is made easy when the wheels of contact are oiled by kindness and sympathy. The children lead the way to Americanization. Mr. Brandenburg gives this report of a conversation overheard in an Italian tenement in New York, the parties being a mother, father, and the oldest of three daughters: "Said the mother in very forcible Tuscan: 'You shall speak Italian and nothing else, if I must kill you; for what will your grandmother say when you go back to the old country, if you talk this pig's English?' 'Aw, g'wan! Youse tink I'm goin' to talk dago 'n' be called a guinea! Not on your life. I'm 'n American, I am, 'n you go 'way back an' sit down,' The mother evidently understood the reply well enough, for she poured forth a torrent of Italian, and then the father ended matters by saying in mixed Italian and English: 'Shut up, both of you. I wish I spoke English like the children do,' Many parents have learned good English in order to escape being laughed at or despised by their children."[87] [Sidenote: The Young American]