“Ah, Mullins’s Meadows,” repeated the fat man.

“Reg’lar good land that,” interposed another fat man.

“And so it is, sure-ly,” said a third fat man.

“Everybody knows that,” said the corpulent host.

The hardheaded man looked dubiously round, but finding himself in a minority, assumed a compassionate air and said no more.

“What are they talking about?” inquired the old lady of one of her granddaughters, in a very audible voice; for, like many deaf people, she never seemed to calculate on the possibility of other persons hearing what she said herself.

“About the land, grandma.”

“What about the land?⁠—Nothing the matter, is there?”