“Oh no; it is pretty true, taking it all round,” returned Vancouver, with a smile. “But I am tremendously flattered at the faith you put in my sayings.”
“Oh, are you? That is odd, you know, because if you are so much flattered at my believing you, you would not be much disappointed if I doubted you.”
“I beg to differ. Excuse me”–
“Not at all,” answered Joe, laughing. “Only we have old-fashioned prejudices at home. We begin by expecting to be believed, and are sometimes a good deal annoyed if any one says we are telling fibs.”
“Of course, if you put it in that way,” said Vancouver. “But I suppose it is not a very bad fib to say one’s country is the greatest on earth. I am sure you English say it quite as often and as loudly as we do, and, you see, we cannot both be right, possibly.”
“No, not exactly. But suppose two men, any two, like you and Mr. Harrington for instance, each made a point of telling every one you met that you were the greatest man on earth.”
“It is conceivable that we might both be wrong,” said Vancouver, laughing at the idea.
“But one of you might be right,” objected Joe.
“No–that is not conceivable,” retorted Vancouver.
“No? Let us ask Mr. Harrington. Mr. Harrington!”