"Our excellent country," said Mr. Milbrey, "is perhaps not yet what it will be; there is undeniably a most distressing rawness where we might expect finish. Now in Chicago," he continued in a tone suitably hushed for the relation of occult phenomena, "we dined with a person who served champagne with the oysters, soup, fish, and _entree_, and for the remainder of the dinner--you may credit me or not--he proffered a claret of 1875--. I need hardly remind you, the most delicate vintage of the latter half of the century--and it was served _frappe_." There was genuine emotion in the speaker's voice. "And papa nearly swooned when our host put cracked ice and two lumps of sugar into his own glass--" "_Avice, dear!_" remonstrated the father in a tone implying that some things positively must not be mentioned at table. "Well, you shouldn't expect too much of those self-made men in Chicago," said Shepler. "If they'd only make themselves as well as they make their sausages and things," sighed Mr. Milbrey. "And the self-made man _will_ talk shop," suggested Oldaker. "He thinks you're dying to hear how he made the first thousand of himself." "Still, those Chicago chaps learn quickly enough when they settle in New York," ventured one of the young men. "I knew a Chicago chap who lived East two years and went back not a half bad sort," said the other. "God help him now, though; his father made him go back to work in a butcher shop or something of the sort." "Best thing I ever heard about Chicago," said Uncle Peter, "a man from your town told me once he had to stay in Chicago a year, and, says he, 'I went out there a New Yorker, and I went home an American,' he says." The old man completed this anecdote in tones that were slightly inflamed. "How extremely typical!" said Mrs. Milbrey. "Truly the West is the place of unspoiled Americanism and the great unspent forces; you are quite right, Mr. Bines." "Think of all the unspent forces back in that silver mine," remarked Miss Milbrey, with a patent effort to be significant. "My perverse child delights to pose as a sordid young woman," the fond mother explained to Percival, "yet no one can be less so, and you, Mr. Bines, I am sure, would be the last to suspect her of it. I saw in you at once those sterling qualities--" "Isn't it dreadfully dark down in that sterling silver mine?" observed Miss Milbrey, apropos of nothing, apparently, while her mother attacked a second chop that she had meant not to touch. "Here's hoping we'll soon be back in God's own country," said Oldaker, raising his glass. "Hear, hear!" cried Uncle Peter, and drained his glass eagerly as they drank the toast. Whereat they all laughed and Mrs. Drelmer said, "What a dear, lively wit, for an old gentleman." "Oldaker," said Shepler, "has really been the worst sufferer. This is his first trip West." "Beg pardon, Shepler! I was West as far as Buffalo--let me see--in 1878 or '79."