David, "the' was two boys an' a sister. The oldest son,
Alferd, went into the law an' done bus'nis in Albany, an' afterw'ds
moved to New York; but he's always kept up the old place here. The old
man left what was a good deal o' propity fer them days, an' Alf he kept
his share an' made more. He was in the Assembly two three terms, an'
afterw'ds member of Congress, an' they do say," remarked Mr. Harum with
a wink, "that he never lost no money by his politics. On the other hand,
The'dore made more or less of a muddle on't, an' 'mongst 'em they set
him up in the bankin' bus'nis. I say 'them' because the Verjooses, an'
the Rogerses, an' the Swaynes, an' a lot of 'em, is all more or less
related to each other, but Alf's reely the one at the bottom on't, an'
after The 'd lost most of his money it was the easiest way to kind o'
keep him on his legs."

"He seems a good-natured, easy-going sort of person," said John by way
of comment, and, truth to say, not very much interested.

"Oh, yes," said David rather contemptuously, "you could drive him with a
tow string. He don't _know_ enough to run away. But what I was gettin'
at was this: He an' his wife--he married one of the Tenakers--has lived
right here fer the Lord knows how long; born an' brought up here both
on 'em, an' somehow we're 'village people' an' they ain't, that's all."

"Rather a fine distinction," remarked his hearer, smiling.

"Yes, sir," said David. "Now, there's old maid Allis, relative of the
Rogerses, lives all alone down on Clark Street in an old house that
hain't had a coat o' paint or a new shingle sence the three Thayers was
hung, an' she talks about the folks next door, both sides, that she's
knowed alwus, as 'village people,' and I don't believe," asserted the
speaker, "she was ever away f'm Homeville two weeks in the hull course
of her life. She's a putty decent sort of a woman too," Mr. Harum
admitted. "If the' was a death in the house she'd go in an' help, but
she wouldn't never think of askin' one on 'em to tea."

"I suppose you have heard it said," remarked John, laughing, "that it
takes all sorts of people to make a world."

"I think I hev heard a rumor to that effect," said David, "an' I guess
the' 's about as much human nature in some folks as the' is in others,
if not more."

"And I don't fancy that it makes very much difference to you," said
John, "whether the Verjooses or Miss Allis call you 'village people' or
not."

"Don't cut no fig