One thing I did not fail to notice.

Every man we met touched his hat as he greeted my friend.
"Good morning, Sile," some said, as we passed them, or, "How are you, Comptroller ?" It was a square, frame house--that of the Dunkelbergs--large for that village, and had a big dooryard with trees in it.

As we came near the gate I saw Sally Dunkelberg playing with other children among the trees.
Suddenly I was afraid and began to hang back.

I looked down at my bare feet and my clothes, both of which were dirty.

Sally and her friends had stopped their play and were standing in a group looking at us.