 Men laughed when they said he was a bad boy, as if they did not quite believe their own assertion.  The vicar, an old whiteheaded man, with a kind, hearty countenance, said that the child was full of mischief, full of mischief; but he would improve as he grew older, he was quite certain of that.  And the vicar was a good judge; for he had five boys of his own, besides three other boys, the sons of a distant relative, who boarded with him; and he had lived forty years in a parish overflowing with boys, and he was particularly fond of boys in general.  Not so the doctor, a pursy little man with a terrific frown, who hated boys, especially little ones, with a very powerful hatred.  The doctor said that Martin was a scamp.