8 - An old friend

Summary

We now turned into a pleasant lane where the branches of great plane trees nearly met overhead, but behind them lay low houses standing rather close together.

‘This is Long Acre,’ quoth Dick; ‘so there must once have been a cornfield here. How curious it is that places change so, and yet keep their old names! Just look how thick the houses stand! and they are still going on building, look you!’

‘Yes,’ said the old man, ‘but I think the cornfields must have been built over before the middle of the nineteenth century. I have heard that about here was one of the thickest parts of the town. But I must get down here, neighbours; I have got to call on a friend who lives in the gardens behind this Long Acre. Good-bye and good luck, Guest!’

And he jumped down and strode away vigorously, like a young man.

‘How old should you say that neighbour will be?’ said I to Dick as we lost sight of him; for I saw that he was old, and yet he looked dry and sturdy like a piece of old oak; a type of old man I was not used to seeing.

‘O, about ninety, I should say,’ said Dick.

‘How long-lived your people must be!’ said I.

‘Yes,’ said Dick, ‘certainly we have beaten the three-score-andten of the old Jewish proverb-book.