That gave me a flash of insight. Evidently this man had never fathomed the deep guile of much English modesty. The course for me to pursue was clear. At once I became a shrinking violet. As a matter of fact there have been times when I have wanted to knock a man down for being half as modest as I must have looked at that moment. But the effect on the American was all that the most Machiavellian subtlety could desire. It would hardly have been surprising if wings had sprouted on his shoulders and he had flapped them and crowed. "The fact of the matter is that Canada is still a colony of Great Britain and not a nation, and no amount of boasting or assertion to the contrary will change the actual status." Wholesome truth this, but not to be borne patiently were it not for the rising tide of laughter within. Every moment the American was becoming more and more cocky and exhibiting the very quality he was condemning in Canadians. The temptation to egg him on was irresistible. "Still," I ventured modestly, "it would be kind in Americans to overlook this youthful folly of ours. At the present time there is a growing bitterness between the two countries that may become serious unless a great deal of wise tolerance is shown." "Oh, it can't become serious. Perhaps it might a hundred years from now, when Canada may have a population approaching ours, but just now--" And he made a large "shoo fly!" gesture that dismissed the whole matter as unworthy of consideration. There was no question about it. I must go away from there or there would be an explosion that would reduce my gravity to a total loss. And when I finally got away from the flood of kindly candor that was sweeping over me I got the finest thrill of all. I had mastered the art of that exasperating English modesty that had always been my despair! This was more than an intellectual triumph! It was balm to a bruised and wounded spirit!