"Who do you mean by everybody, Emily?"
"Why, I mean merchants, shop-keepers, and tradesmen, with their wives and daughters, all mixed up together, into a kind of hodge-podge. It used to be a fashionable place of resort—but people that think any thing of themselves, don't go there now."
"Bless me, child!" ejaculated old Uncle Joseph, in surprise. "This is all new to me. But you were there last year."
"I know. And that cured us all. There was not a day in which we were not crowded down to the table among the most vulgar kind of people."
"How, vulgar, Emily?"
"Why, there was Mr. Jones, the watchmaker, with his wife and two daughters. I need not explain what I mean by vulgar, when I give you that information."
"I cannot say that I have any clearer idea of what you mean, Emily."
"You talk strangely, uncle! You do not suppose that we are going to associate with the Joneses?"
"I did not say that I did. Still, I am in the dark as to what you mean by the most vulgar kind of people."
"Why, common people, brother," said Mrs. Ludlow, coming up to the aid of her daughter. "Mr. Jones is only a watchmaker, and therefore has no business to push himself and family into the company of genteel people."