CHAPTER VII

NEIGHBORS DROP IN


One evening early in the year three neighbors dropped in. They were
evidently as diverse in character as in appearance. The eldest was known
in the neighborhood as Squire Bartley, having long been a justice of the
peace. He was a large landholder, and carried on his farm in the
old-fashioned ways, without much regard to system, order, or improvement.
He had a big, good-natured red face, a stout, burly form, and a
corresponding voice. In marked contrast with his aspect and past
experience was Mr. Alvord, who was thin almost to emaciation, and upon
whose pallid face not only ill-health but deep mental suffering had left
their unmistakable traces. He was a new-comer into the vicinity, and
little was known of his past history beyond the fact that he had exchanged
city life for country pursuits in the hope of gaining strength and vigor.
He ought to have been in the full prime of cheerful manhood, but his sombre
face and dark, gloomy eyes indicated that something had occurred in the
past which so deeply shadowed his life as to make its long continuance
doubtful. He had not reached middle age, and yet old Mr Clifford appeared a
heartier man than he. While he had little knowledge of rural occupations,
he entered into them with eagerness, apparently finding them an antidote
for sad memories. He had little to say, but was a good listener, and
evidently found at the Cliffords' a warmth and cheer coming not from the
hearth only. Webb and Leonard had both been very kind to him in his
inexperience, and an occasional evening at their fireside was the only
social tendency that he had been known to indulge. Dr. Marvin, the third
visitor, might easily compete with Burt in flow of spirits, and in his day
had been quite as keen a sportsman. But he was unlike Burtis in this, that