Not well-known by people nearby, but having gained a great fame among the experts, the tree in the middle of the village was never a beautiful ornament of its hideous appearance, and yet it was loved by people, the people who were homeless, because of its God-blessed shade, and the merciful fruit that were badly tasted yet giving men persuasion of living on. A man wishing under the tree would not get any imediate benefit, but by heart, he could hear the tree telling him the way. Some said that after they had eaten the fruit their mental power seemed getting on track. Despite the fact that the tree was so powerful, the new landlord did not like it anyway.

        "That is the ugliest tree I've ever seen," said the Victor Theropy, the landlord. " Why don't the villagers cut the ugly down? I bought the village but not the ugly tree."

        "You can't chop it down; it is as old as the village: the man who planted the tree was the first man ever stepped on the land, and, his name, wait a minute, oh, yes, it was... it was Philanther," said one of man who just appeared to be standing next to the landlord.

        "Well, I bet he was a ugly philanderer as ugly as the tree!" Victor Theropy said, falling into a disgraceful laughter along with a few of his comanion.

        "If I were you, I would not even have a thought of saying that. He is the founder of the village, and the village is named after him," said one of the angry farmers who just happened to fall in the discussion group.

        "But isn't the village named The Crosser's? Are yoou making a fool of me?"

        "Well, we daren't," said somebody among the crowd, as it grew larger and larger.

        "I know you daren't, farmers," sneered Theropy. "You farmers."