The two walked a long distance, silent and supercilious, for each felt that here were walking two men who together represented three hundred acres of field and meadow, and nearly as many more of forest-land. At length the neighbor, who was the younger, and besides was Burgomaster, asked,
"Have you any old hay left?"
"No; sold it all."
"At a good price?"
"Yes. You too?"
"Of course."
They spoke to each other as unconcernedly as though neither had ever thought of increasing his acres; but for all that the enchanted dragon--Speculation--had flown over this peaceful valley, leaving dire destruction in his track. Each of these men had lost large sums of money by a recent bank failure, and in American railroad stocks; but neither was willing to ask the other's sympathy, or even to acknowledge his own loss; and each thought, "I can bear it better than he."
One said to himself, "I am younger than he is," and the other, "I am older than he;" one, "How could the young man be so rash?" and the other, "How could the old man have shown so little experience?" On only one point did their thoughts agree; both intended to resist temptation for the future, and to be contented with the slow and sure profits of their fields.
"We are a little late," the younger farmer at last said.
"Oh," replied Landolin, standing still (he always stood still when he spoke), "what I have to buy will wait for me. I only sent my cattle that the fair might amount to something, as I hear that a great many Alsace traders are coming."