cornfield here. How curious it is that places change so, and yet
keep their old names! Just look how thick the houses stand! and they
are still going on building, look you!"

"Yes," said the old man, "but I think the cornfields must have been
built over before the middle of the nineteenth century. I have heard
that about here was one of the thickest parts of the town. But I
must get down here, neighbours; I have got to call on a friend who
lives in the gardens behind this Long Acre. Good-bye and good luck,
Guest!"

And he jumped down and strode away vigorously, like a young man.

"How old should you say that neighbour will be?" said I to Dick as we
lost sight of him; for I saw that he was old, and yet he looked dry
and sturdy like a piece of old oak; a type of old man I was not used
to seeing.

"O, about ninety, I should say," said Dick.

"How long-lived your people must be!" said I.

"Yes," said Dick, "certainly we have beaten the threescore-and-ten of
the old Jewish proverb-book. But then you see that was written of
Syria, a hot dry country, where people live faster than in our
temperate climate. However, I don't think it matters much, so long
as a man is healthy and happy while he IS alive. But now, Guest, we
are so near to my old kinsman's dwelling-place that I think you had
better keep all future questions for him."