I first
went to California. I am not only accustomed to an offensive insular
patriotism on the part of my countrymen, but, in addition, all my life
I have had to apologize to them for being a New Englander. The statement
that I was brought up in Boston always produces a sad silence in my
listeners, and a long look of pity. Soft-hearted strangers do their
best to conceal their tears, but they rarely succeed. I have reached the
point now, however, where I no longer apologize for being a Bostonian;
I proffer no explanations. I make the damaging admission the instant I
meet people and leave the matter of further recognition to them. If they
choose to consider that Boston bringing-up a social bar sinister, so be
it. I have discovered recently that the fact that I happened to be born
in Rio Janeiro offers some amelioration. But nothing can entirely
remove the handicap. So, I reiterate, indurated as I am to pity, the
contemptuous attitude of the average Californiac did not at first annoy
me. But after a while even I, calloused New Englander that I am, began
to resent it.

This, for instance, may happen to you at any time in California--it is
the Californiac's way of paying the greatest tribute he knows:

"Do you know," somebody says, "I should never guess that you were an
Eastener. You're quite like one of us--cordial and simple and natural."

"But-but," you say, trying to collect your wits against this left-handed
compliment, "I don't think I differ from the average Easterner."

"Oh, yes, you do. You don't notice it yourself, of course. But I give
you my word, nobody will ever suspect that you are an Easterner unless
you tell it yourself. They really won't."

"But-but," you say, beginning to come back, "I have no objection
whatever to being known as an Easterner."

That holds her for a moment. And while she is casting about for phrases
with which to meet this extraordinary condition, you rally gallantly.
"In fact, I am Proud of being an Easterner."

That ends the conversation.

Or somebody in a group asks you what part of the East you're from.

"New York," perhaps you reply.

"New York. My husband came from New York," she goes on. "He was brought
up there. But he's lived in California for twenty years. He got the
idea a few years ago that he wanted to go back East. I said to him, 'All
right, we'll go back and visit for a while and see how you like it.' One
month was enough for him. The people there are so cold and