Mr. Phanourakis was 80 years old when he left his Greek mountain village and took. a foreign ship for America. His sons had done well in the restaurant business there and wanted him to spend his remaining years with them. Mr. Phanourakis knew no language except his own but, with the self-confidence of a mountain villager, he made his way easily about the ship. When the bell announced the serving of lunch on his first day on board he found the number of his table from the list outside the dining-room and went straight to his table while many of the other passengers crowded helplessly round the chief steward waiting to be told where their tables were. It was a small table for two. Mr. Phanourakis sat down. After a few minutes his table--companion arrived. 'Bon appetit, m’sieur,' he murmured politely, as he took the other chair. Mr. Phanourakis looked at him quickly and then smiled. 'Phanourakis,' he said, carefully spacing out the Greek syllables. During the afternoon, one of the ship's officers, who spoke a little Greek, asked Mr. Phanourakis whether he had found any acquaintances on board. The old man shook his head. 'The only person I've met is my table-companion,' he said. 'I think he's French. His name is Bonappetit.' 'That is not a name,' said the officer gently. 'It is a French expression that means 'good appetite'.' The old man's sons wanted him to go to America ______.