d, or fish,--_beast_!' and you
have to name one while he counts ten? If a beast has been requested,
you can think of one fish and two birds, but no beasts. If he says
'_Fish_,' all the beasts in the universe stalk through your memory,
but not one finny, scaly, swimming thing! Well, that is the effect of
'For instance?' on my faculties. So I stumbled a bit, and succeeded in
recalling, as objects which do not improve with age, mushrooms, women,
and chickens, and he was obliged to agree with me, which nearly killed
him. Then I said that although America is so fresh and blooming that
people persist in calling it young, it is much older than it appears
to the superficial eye. There is no real propriety in dating us as a
nation from the Declaration of Independence in 1776, I said, nor even
from the landing of the Pilgrims in 1620; nor, for that matter, from
Columbus's discovery in 1492. It's my opinion, I asserted, that some
of us had been there thousands of years before, but nobody had had the
sense to discover us. We couldn't discover ourselves,--though if we
could have foreseen how the sere and yellow nations of the earth would
taunt us with youth and inexperience, we should have had to do
something desperate!"

"That theory must have been very convincing to the philosophic Scots
mind," I interjected.

"It was; even Mr. Macdonald thought it ingenious. 'And so,' I went on,
'we were alive and awake and beginning to make history when you Scots
were only barelegged savages roaming over the hills and stealing
cattle. It was a very bad habit of yours, that cattle-stealing, and
one which you kept up too long.'

"'No worse a sin than your stealing land from the Indians,' he said.

"'Oh yes,' I answered, 'because it was a smaller one! Yours was a
vice, and ours a sin; or I mean it would have been a sin had we done
it; but in reality we didn't steal land; we just _took_ it, reserving
plenty for the Indians to play about on; and for every hunting-ground
we took away we gave them in exchange a serviceable plough, or a
school, or a nice Indian agent, or something. That was land-grabbing,
if you like, but it is a habit you Britishers have still, while we
gave it up when we reached years of discretion.'"

"This is very illuminating," I interrupted, now thoroughly wide awake,
"but it isn't my idea of a literary discussion."

"I am coming to that," she responded. "It was just at this point that,
goaded into secret fury by my innocen