What, in God’s name, was the matter with them? I asked this of myself over and over again and that winter, as I learned still more about them, what had at first been merely an exclamation of surprise became a prayer. What, in God’s name, was the matter with them? CHAPTER IV A TOWN ASLEEP During this first winter Ruth and I made the most of every opportunity to get acquainted with our fellow townsmen. We went to church regularly and attended all the sociables and concerts and fairs and we met some very fine people. But a large part of them, however, were not so representative of the new generation in whom I was most interested as they were of the old generation. I found that most of the comfortable and well-to-do were among those who had inherited small fortunes, where the accumulations of several branches of one family had finally settled in a single individual. Much of this money I also found had been made outside the village. Then of course there was another prosperous element consisting of a half dozen local business men who were doing well; the hardware merchant, the druggist, the grain and hay merchant, the local lawyers and doctors. I might have seen more of these men if I had been a member of the fraternal organizations, but somehow I never took to them. I found that there were a half dozen branches of various secret societies in this small village and a good many men belonged to them all. Another significant fact was that I didn’t meet at any of these gatherings any of my foreign-born friends. I never saw Dardoni there, or Tony or any of the other dozen families who as far as enterprise and worldly success go were important members of the community. One reason was their difference in religious belief, but another and stronger was the fact that they were held to be on an inferior social plane. In many ways they were. There’s no denying this, but they had, to my mind, enough sterling qualities to offset that. Anyway, I hadn’t looked to find social lines drawn in a country village, but when I expressed my views even to Cunningham, the minister, I didn’t receive much encouragement. It made me mad to see such snobbishness in an American village and several times I spoke from the shoulder. After I had visited Dardoni’s farm I felt more strongly than ever.