"_Was_ you?" I says. "Well, a strain of me is English, and a touch of me way back was Scotch-Irish; and I've got a little Welsh. And I'd like to find some Indian, but I haven't ever done it. And I'm proud of all them, Mis' Sykes." Mis' Hubbelthwait spoke up--her that's never been able to get a plate really to fit her, and when she talks it bothers out loud. "I got some of nearly all the Allies in me," she says, complacent. "_What?_" says Mis' Sykes. "Yes, sir," says Mis' Hubbelthwait. "I was counting up, and there ain't hardly any of 'em I ain't." "Japanese?" says Mis' Sykes, withering. "How interesting, Mis' Hubbelthwait," says she. "Oh, I mean Europe," says Mis' Hubbelthwait, cross. "Of course you can't descend from different continents. There's English--I've got that. And French--I've got that. And I-talian is in me--I know that by my eyes. And folks that come from County Galway has Spanish--" "Spain ain't ally," says Mis' Fire Chief Merriman, majestic. "It's neuter." "Well, there's that much more credit--to be allies _and_ neuter," says Mis' Hubbelthwait triumphant. "Well, sir," says Mis' Holcomb-that-was-Mame-Bliss. "I ain't got anything in me but sheer American--you can't beat that." "How'd you manage that, Mame?" I ask her. "Kind of a trick, wasn't it?" "I don't know what you mean," she says. And went right on over my head, like she does. "Ain't it nice, ladies," she says, "to be living in the very tip-top nation of this world?" "Except of course England," says Mis' Jimmy Sturgis. "Why except England?" snaps Mame Holcomb. "Oh well, we all know England's the grandest nation," says Mis' Sturgis. "Don't the sun never set on her possessions? Don't she rule the wave? Ain't she got the largest city? And all like that?" Mame looked mad. "Well, I'm sure I don't know," she says. "But from the time I studied g'ography I always understood that no nation could touch us Americans." "Why," says Mis' Sturgis, "I _love_ America best. But I never had any doubts that England that my folks came from was the most important country." Mis' Holcomb made her mouth both tight and firm. "Their gover'ment beats ours, I s'pose?" she says. "You know very well you can't beat our gover'ment." Berta, Mis' Sykes's little Switzerland maid, spoke up. "Oh," she says, "I guess Sweetzerland has got the nicest gover'ment. Everybody speaks so nice of that." Mame looked over at me, behind Berta. But of course we wouldn't say a word to hurt the poor little thing's feelings. Up spoke that new Mis' Antonio, whose husband has the fluff rug store. "Of course," she says, "nothing has Rome but Italy." We kep' still for a minute. Nobody could contradict that. "I feel bad," said Mis' Antonio, "for the new countries--America, England--that have not so much old history in them. And no old sceneries." Berta spoke up again. "Yes, but then who's got part of the Alps?" she wanted to know, kind of self-conscious. Mame Holcomb looked around, sort of puzzled.