makes one feel
oneself welcome.

Persons who come to this country are very apt to confound the old
settlers from Britain with the native Americans; and when they meet with
people of rude, offensive manners, using certain Yankee words in their
conversation, and making a display of independence not exactly suitable
to their own aristocratical notions, they immediately suppose they must
be genuine Yankees, while they are, in fact, only imitators; and you
well know the fact that a bad imitation is always worse than the
original.

You would be surprised to see how soon the new comers fall into this
disagreeable manner and affectation of equality, especially the inferior
class of Irish and Scotch; the English less so. We were rather
entertained by the behaviour of a young Scotchman, the engineer of the
steamer, on my husband addressing him with reference to the management
of the engine. His manners were surly, and almost insolent. He
scrupulously avoided the least approach to courtesy or outward respect;
nay, he even went so far as to seat himself on the bench close beside
me, and observed that "among the many advantages this country offered to
settlers like him, he did not reckon it the least of them that he was
not obliged to take off his hat when he spoke to people (meaning persons
of our degree), or address them by any other title than their name;
besides, he could go and take his seat beside any gentleman or lady
either, and think himself to the full as good as them.

"Very likely," I replied, hardly able to refrain from laughing at this
sally; "but I doubt you greatly overrate the advantage of such
privileges, for you cannot oblige the lady or gentleman to entertain the
same opinion of your qualifications, or to remain seated beside you
unless it pleases them to do so." With these words I rose up and left
the independent gentleman evidently a little confounded at the
manoeuvre: however, he soon recovered his self-possession, and continued
swinging the axe he held in his hand, and said, "It is no crime, I
guess, being born a poor man."

"None in the world," replied my husband; "a man's birth is not of his
own choosing. A man can no more help being born poor than rich; neither
is it the fault of a gentleman being born of parents who occupy a higher
station in society than his neighbour. I hope you will allow this?"

The Scotchman was obliged to yield a reluctant affirmative to the latter
position; but concluded with