Those days, as before said, were the good old days of hospitality—­and, as far as population went, of social intercourse also—­when every man’s cabin was the stranger’s home, and every neighbor every neighbor’s friend.  There were no distinct grades of society then as now, from which an honest individual of moral worth must be excluded because of poverty—­a good character for upright dealing being the standard by which all were judged; and whoever possessed this, could rank equally with the best, though poor as the beggar Lazarus.  Doubtless intellect and education then, as well as at the present day, held in many things a superiority over imbecility and ignorance; but there were no distinct lines of demarcation drawn; and in the ordinary routine of intercourse one with another, there was no superiority claimed, and none acknowledged.  And this arose, probably, from the necessity each felt for there being a general unity—­a general blending together of all qualifications, as it were, into one body politic—­by which each individual became an individual member of the whole, perfect in his place, and capable of supplying what another might chance to need; as the man of education might be puny in stature and deficient of a strong arm; the man of strong arm deficient in education; the imbecile man might be a superior woodman—­the man of intellect an inferior one:—­so that, as before remarked, each of these qualities, being essential to perfect the whole, each one of course was called upon to exercise his peculiar talent, and take his position on an equality with his neighbor.  There has been great change in society since then; those days of simple equality have gone forever; but we question if the present race, with all their privileges, with all their security, with all their means of enjoyment, are as happy as those noble old pioneers, with all their necessities, with all their dangers, with all their sufferings.

According, therefore, to the established custom of the early settlers, the stranger for whom Algernon proceeded to make inquiries, was entitled to all the rights of hospitality; and whether liked or disliked, could not consistently be smiled away, nor frowned away, as doubtless he would have been, had he lived in this civil, wonderworking age of lightning and steam; and though his appearance was any thing but agreeable to Mrs. Younker, who surveyed him through her spectacles (being a little near sighted) from the adjoining cabin, whither Algernon had repaired to learn her decision; and though it would prove inconvenient to herself to grant his request; yet, as she expressed it, “He war a stranger, as hadn’t no home and didn’t know whar to go to; and prehaps war hungry, poor man; and it wouldn’t be right nor Christian-like to refuse him jest a night’s lodging like;” and so the matter was settled, and Algernon was deputed to inform him that he could stay and would be welcome to such fare as their humble means afforded.