Dick. "Aunt Grace, you've had your turn. Now it's
mine. I don't want to bury myself yet awhile, but when the time comes I
expect I shall shy at London as the governor does. I'm country."

"Why?" asked Angela.

"Oh, because there's more to do. Now then, Beatrice. You're London, I
suppose."

"Yes," said Beatrice. "Because there's more to do."

"Good for you! That's four to two. Mrs. Graham!"

"Can you ask?" said that lady. "And I won't give any reasons. I like the
country best because I like it best."

"Father is country. Five to two."

"And my reason," said the Squire, "is that every man who doesn't like
the country best, when he can get it, isn't a man at all. He's a
popinjay."

"Well, at the risk of being called the feminine for popinjay," said Mrs.
Birket, with a smile, "I must choose London."

"Oh, but I don't include the women, my dear Emmeline," said the Squire.
"And I don't include men like Herbert either, who've got their work to
do. I'm thinking of the fellows who peacock about on pavements when they
might be doing 'emselves good hunting, or some such pursuit. It's
country sport that's good for a man, keeps him strong and healthy; and
he sees things in the proper light too. England was a better country
than it is now when the House of Commons was chiefly made up of country
gentlemen. You didn't hear anything about this preposterous socialism
then. I tell you, the country gentlemen are the backbone of England, and
your party will find it out when you've turned them out of the country."

"Oh, but we shan't do that," said Mr. Birket. "That would be too
dreadful."

"No politics," said Dick. "We're five to three. Tom, you're a country
man, I'm sure."

But the Rector was not at all sure that he was. He sometimes thought
that people were more interesting than Nature. On the whole, he thought
he would choose the town.

"Then I change round," said Mrs. Beach. "Where thou goest, Tom, I will
go. Dick, I'm town."

"Then that changes the game. Town's one up. Muriel, be careful."

"Certainly not country," said Muriel. "I've had enough of it. I think
the best place to live in is a suburb."

"Melbury Park!" laughed the Squire. "Ha! ha!"

"That's town," said Dick. "Four to six. We yokels are getting worsted."

"I'll come to your rescue," said Humphrey. "I don't want to be cut off
with a shilling. Give me a big country house and a season ticket, and
I'm with you."

"Five to six then. Now, Siskin, make it