"Would a General lay it over you any?"

"No, sir, he wouldn't."

Yancy gazed respectfully but uncertainly at Chills and Fever.

"Then all I got to say is that I've traveled considerably, mostly
between Scratch Hill and Balaam's Cross Roads, meeting with all
kinds of folks; but I never seen an earl afo. I take it they are
some scarce."

"They are. I don't reckon there's another one but me in the
whole United States."

"Think of that!" gasped Yancy.

"We ain't nothin' fo' style, it bein' my opinion that where a
man's a born gentleman he's got a heap of reason fo' to be
grateful but none to brag," said Cavendish.

"Dick's kind of titles are like having red hair and squint eyes.
Once they get into a family they stick," explained Polly.

"I've noticed that, 'specially about squint eyes." Yancy was
glad to plant his feet on familiar ground.

"These here titles go to the eldest son. He begins by bein' a
viscount," continued Chills and Fever. He wished Yancy to know
the full measure of their splendor.