A
man from Barre had rented the store--David had decided at the last
not to sell--and the old familiars congregated in melancholy
fashion and talked over the situation. An enormous pride over
their departed townsman became evident. They paraded him,
flaunting him like a banner in the eyes of the new man. "David is
awful smart," they said; "there won't nobody get the better of him
in the city if he has lived in Townsend Centre all his life. He's
got his eyes open. Know what he paid for his house in Boston?
Well, sir, that house cost twenty-five thousand dollars, and David
he bought it for five. Yes, sir, he did."
"Must have been some out about it," remarked the new man, scowling
over his counter. He was beginning to feel his disparaging
situation.
"Not an out, sir. David he made sure on't. Catch him gettin' bit.
Everythin' was in apple-pie order, hot an' cold water and all, and
in one of the best locations of the city--real high-up street.
David he said the rent in that street was never under a thousand.
Yes, sir, David he got a bargain--five thousand dollars for a
twenty-five-thousand-dollar house."
"Some out about it!" growled the new man over the counter.
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