In summer I may go to
Newpoort, although it ain't th' place it was whin I first wint there. It
was simple thin. People laughed at Clarence Von Steenevant because he
wore a hat encrusted in dimons instead iv th' rough-an'-ready goold
bonnet that ye grabbed fr'm th' rubbish iv old pearl necklaces an'
marredge certyficates on th' hall table whin ye wint out to play tennis.
It has changed since. But there are still a few riprisintatives iv th'
older memberships iv th' stock exchange who cannot lave th' familyar
scenes, an' I like to dhrop in on these pathricyans an' gossip iv days
that ar-re no more. Faith, there's hardly a place that I don't spind me
summers. If I don't like a place I can move. I sail me yacht into
sthrange harbors. I take me private car wheriver I want to go. I hunt
an' I fish. Last year I wint to Canada an' fished f'r salmon. I made a
gr-reat catch--near thirty cans. An' whin I'm tired I can go to bed. An'
it is a bed, not a rough sketch iv a brick-yard.
"Well, well, what places I have seen. An' I always see thim at their
best. Th' on'y way to see anny place at its best is niver to go there.
No place can be thruly injyeable whin ye have to take ye'ersilf along
an' pay rent f'r him whin ye get there.
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