about it I didn't know and I didn't care, but so far as _my_ experience
went the English were the loveliest nation in the world.

"A nation like a box of strawberries," Mr. Page suggested, "all the big
ones on top, all the little ones at the bottom."

"That doesn't matter to us," I replied cheerfully, "we never get any
further than the top. And you'll admit there's a great tendency for
little ones to shake down. It's only a question of time. They've had so
much time in England. You see the effects of it everywhere."

"Not at all. By no means. _Our_ little strawberries rise," he declared.

"Do they? Dear me, so they do! I suppose the American law of gravity is
different. In England they would certainly smile at that."

Arthur said nothing, but his whole bearing expressed a contempt for
puns.

"Of course," I said, "I mean the loveliest nation after Americans."

I thought he might have taken that for granted. Instead, he looked
incredulous and smiled, in an observing, superior way.

"Why do you say 'ahfter'?" he asked. His tone was sweetly acidulated.

"Why do you say 'affter'?" I replied simply.

"Because," he answered with quite unnecessary emphasis, "in the part of
the world I come from everybody says it. Because my mother has brought