I have
not used the word 'Guess' for many Years."
"Yours is a Sad Case," remarked the Second Traveler. "Why do you ever
come back?"
"To collect my Income," was the Reply. "Isn't it a Bore? Rents and all
that sort of Rot, you know."
"But you have not settled the Bet," said one of the Persistent
Travelers. "Are you a Yankee?"
"I have never Admitted it, and I cannot do so now," said the
Brother-in-Law of Lord Frost-Simpson. "At the same time, it is on Record
that I was born at Pontiac, Michigan. Of course, you know What I am
Striving to be. But there must be a Handicap somewhere. During the Two
Hundred Years in which my Ancestors temporarily resided in the States,
they must have absorbed some of the Characteristics of this Uncouth and
Vulgar People, and as a Result the Sins of the Father are visited upon
the Child even to the third and fourth Generations, and I cannot hold a
Monocle in my Eye to save my Life. I live Abroad, and strive to Forget,
and work hard to be just like the other Fellows, but I do not seem to
Arrive. Even in this Beastly Country, where the Imitation Article
usually passes current as the Real Thing, there seems to be some Doubt
as to my Case, seeing that you two Persons have made this Bet.
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