“The change,” said I, “may be due to the fact of your giving evidence of possessing some means.  Men are very apt to be courteous to those who have property.  The building of the tavern has, without doubt, contributed to the new estimation in which you are held.”

“That isn’t all,” replied the landlord.  “It is because I am keeping a good tavern, and thus materially advancing the interests of Cedarville, that some of our best people look at me with different eyes.”

“Advancing the interests of Cedarville!  In what way?” I did not apprehend his meaning.

“A good tavern always draws people to a place, while a miserable old tumble-down of an affair, badly kept, such as we have had for years, as surely repels them.  You can generally tell something about the condition of a town by looking at its taverns.  If they are well kept, and doing a good business, you will hardly be wrong in the conclusion that the place is thriving.  Why, already, since I built and opened the ‘Sickle and Sheaf,’ property has advanced over twenty per cent along the whole street, and not less than five new houses have been commenced.”

“Other causes, besides the simple opening of a new tavern, may have contributed to this result,” said I.

“None of which I am aware.  I was talking with Judge Hammond only yesterday—­he owns a great deal of ground on the street—­and he did not hesitate to say, that the building and opening of a good tavern here had increased the value of his property at least five thousand dollars.  He said, moreover, that he thought the people of Cedarville ought to present me with a silver pitcher; and that, for one, he would contribute ten dollars for that purpose.”

The ringing of the supper bell interrupted further conversation; and with the best of appetites, I took my way to the room, where a plentiful meal was spread.  As I entered, I met the wife of Simon Slade, just passing out, after seeing that every thing was in order.  I had not observed her before; and now could not help remarking that she had a flushed, excited countenance, as if she had been over a hot fire, and was both worried and fatigued.  And there was, moreover, a peculiar expression of the mouth, never observed in one whose mind is entirely at ease—­an expression that once seen is never forgotten.  The face stamped itself instantly on my memory; and I can even now recall it with almost the original distinctness.  How strongly it contrasted with that of her smiling, self-satisfied husband, who took his place at the head of his table with an air of conscious importance.  I was too hungry to talk much, and so found greater enjoyment in eating than in conversation.  The landlord had a more chatty guest by his side, and I left them to entertain each other, while I did ample justice to the excellent food with which the table was liberally provided.