"And what is the name of your town?"
"Sasite."
"Rather queer names, I should say," exclaimed Harry.
John laughed and glanced at Harry, as he said: "I wonder how Unity, and Pioneer, and Mayfield, and the queer English names sound to them!"
"Oh, I suppose they have some good reason for having such names."
"Yes; for the same reason that we apply names to certain things. See what a wonderful expression there is in the word 'Harsh,' and how expressive it is compared with its opposite 'soft.' How the first[p. 178] word grates, and the second comes out so smoothly. Then, compare 'swift' and 'slow'; or 'sweet' and 'sour.' Ugh! I can almost taste the last word."
John roared, as he saw the serious aspect of Harry's face. But other sights now attracted their attention. A group of men and women appeared. How strange the natives looked. They were well dressed, that is, judged from the people in Sasite, and they were people of good deportment, if those of the inhabitants that accompanied them were fair specimens.
At the head of the villagers was a man of striking appearance, tall, with white hair, such as you would call distinguished, because he differed from most around him. The women were well clad, and the children plump and vigorous in their actions.
Something must be wrong! These people were not criminals! The old man came forward, and gave a respectful bow. He looked at John and said a few words. Calmo responded, his words when translated being: "These are friends of my father, and they have come to visit you."
At this the man gave another bow, and John went up and held out his hand, which the man took in a simple and unaffected manner.