“Well, let them tell it that way if they like it best. That’s not going to worry me,” Tembarom replied uncombatively. Tummas’s eyes bored deeper into him. “Does na tha care?” he demanded. “What should I care for? Let every fellow enjoy himself his own way.” “Tha ’rt not a bit like one o’ the gentry,” said Tummas. “Tha ’rt quite a common chap. Tha ’rt as common as me, for aw tha foine clothes.” “People are common enough, anyhow,” said Tembarom. “There’s nothing much commoner, is there? There’s millions of ’em everywhere--billions of ’em. None of us need put on airs.” “Tha ’rt as common as me,” said Tummas, reflectively. “An’ yet tha owns Temple Barholm an’ aw that brass. I conna mak’ out how the loike happens.” “Neither can I; but it does all samee.” “It does na happen i’ ’Meriker,” exulted Tummas. “Everybody’s equal theer.” “Rats!” ejaculated Tembarom. “What about multimillionaires?” He forgot that the age of Tummas was ten. It was impossible not to forget it. He was, in fact, ten hundred, if those of his generation had been aware of the truth. But there he sat, having spent only a decade of his most recent incarnation in a whitewashed cottage, deprived of the use of his legs. Miss Alicia, seeing that Tembarom was interested in the boy, entered into domestic conversation with Mrs. Hibblethwaite at the other side of the room. Mrs. Hibblethwaite was soon explaining the uncertainty of Susan’s temper on wash-days, when it was necessary to depend on her legs. “Can’t you walk at all?” Tembarom asked. Tummas shook his head. “How long have you been lame?” “Ever since I weer born. It’s summat like rickets. I’ve been lyin’ here aw my days. I look on at foak an’ think ’em over. I’ve got to do summat. That’s why I loike the atlas. Little Ann Hutchinson gave it to me onct when she come to see her grandmother.” Tembarom sat upright. “Do you know her?” he exclaimed. “I know her best o’ onybody in the world. An I loike her best.” “So do I,” rashly admitted Tembarom. “Tha does?” Tummas asked suspiciously. “Does she loike thee?” “She says she does.” He tried to say it with proper modesty. “Well, if she says she does, she does. An’ if she does, then you an’ me’ll be friends.” He stopped a moment, and seemed to be taking Tembarom in with thoroughness. “I could get a lot out o’ thee,” he said after the inspection. “A lot of what?” Tembarom felt as though he would really like to hear. “A lot o’ things I want to know about. I wish I’d lived the life tha’s lived, clemmin’ or no clemmin’. Tha’s seen things goin’ on every day o’ thy loife.” “Well, there’s been plenty going on,” Tembarom admitted.