“Well, quick! Where are you from?”
“San Francisco,” says I.
“San Fran—what?” says he.
“San Francisco.”
He scratched his head and looked puzzled, then he says—
“Is it a planet?”
By George, Peters, think of it! “Planet?” says I; “it’s a city. And moreover, it’s one of the biggest and finest and—”
“There, there!” says he, “no time here for conversation. We don’t deal in cities here. Where are you from in a general way?”
“Oh,” I says, “I beg your pardon. Put me down for California.”
I had him again, Peters! He puzzled a second, then he says, sharp and irritable—