ABSTRACT
En route once between Boston to Buffalo, I stayed for a couple of days with a former student and her family in Saratoga Springs. On the first evening we sat talking. After listening for a while one of her teenage daughters said suddenly, ‘Mom, do I have an accent?’ My inclination was to make a joke and say yes, she certainly did have an accent and that the only person present without any accent was me, the visitor from England.
