"Is it a planet?"

By George, Peters, think of it! "PLANET?" says I; "it's a city.
And moreover, it's one of the biggest and finest and--"

"There, there!" says he, "no time here for conversation. We don't
deal in cities here. Where are you from in a GENERAL way?"

"Oh," I says, "I beg your pardon. Put me down for California."

I had him AGAIN, Peters! He puzzled a second, then he says, sharp
and irritable--

"I don't know any such planet--is it a constellation?"

"Oh, my goodness!" says I. "Constellation, says you? No--it's a
State."

"Man, we don't deal in States here. WILL you tell me where you are
from IN GENERAL--AT LARGE, don't you understand?"

"Oh, now I get your idea," I says. "I'm from America,--the United
States of America."

Peters, do you know I had him AGAIN? If I hadn't I'm a clam! His
face was as blank as a target after a militia shooting-match. He
turned to an under clerk and says--

"Where is America? WHAT is America?"