Not so long ago ours was a country of many languages and dialects. Today it is, no doubt, on the verge of becoming, at least in its ceaselessly expanding urban areas, the most linguistically monolithic part of the civilized world. A dwindling microscopic minority still study the classical tongues. Were it not for the religious seminaries, Greek studies would long since have vanished to the point of extinction. The fate of Latin is only somewhat less dire. And what shall we say about the modern languages other than English? Fortunately, scholarly concern with and proficiency in them are widespread and notable. But so far as one is able to make out, the amount which in practical life sticks to the ribs of high school and college students is about as slight as is the aroma of a cup of Ersatzkaffee. Certainly when our people get scattered about the wide world, with which they are now perforce concerned in multifarious ways, they are like nothing so much as Missouri farmers after an ice storm that has snapped all the telephone wires and coated all the roads.