第1章

类别:其他 作者:Sherwood Anderson字数:18605更新时间:18/12/14 16:11:44
HANDS,concerningWingBiddlebaumPAPERPILLS,concerningDoctorReefyMOTHER,concerningElizabethWillardTHEPHILOSOPHER,concerningDoctorParcivalNOBODYKNOWS,concerningLouiseTrunnionGODLINESS,aTaleinFourPartsI,concerningJesseBentleyII,alsoconcerningJesseBentleyIIISurrender,concerningLouiseBentleyIVTerror,concerningDavidHardyAMANOFIDEAS,concerningJoeWellingADVENTURE,concerningAliceHindmanRESPECTABILITY,concerningWashWilliamsTHETHINKER,concerningSethRichmondTANDY,concerningTandyHardTHESTRENGTHOFGOD,concerningtheReverendCurtisHartmanTHETEACHER,concerningKateSwiftLONELINESS,concerningEnochRobinson。 ANAWAKENING,concerningBelleCarpenter\"QUEER,\"concerningElmerCowleyTHEUNTOLDLIE,concerningRayPearsonDRINK,concerningTomFosterDEATH,concerningDoctorReefyandElizabethWillardSOPHISTICATION,concerningHelenWhiteDEPARTURE,concerningGeorgeWillardTothememoryofmymother,EMMASMITHANDERSON,whosekeenobservationsonthelifeaboutherfirstawokeinmethehungertoseebeneaththesurfaceoflives,thisbookisdedicated。 THEWRITER,anoldmanwithawhitemustache,hadsomedifficultyingettingintobed。Thewindowsofthehouseinwhichhelivedwerehighandhewantedtolookatthetreeswhenheawokeinthemorning。Acarpentercametofixthebedsothatitwouldbeonalevelwiththewindow。 Quiteafusswasmadeaboutthematter。Thecar- penter,whohadbeenasoldierintheCivilWar,cameintothewriter\'sroomandsatdowntotalkofbuildingaplatformforthepurposeofraisingthebed。Thewriterhadcigarslyingaboutandthecar- pentersmoked。 Foratimethetwomentalkedoftheraisingofthebedandthentheytalkedofotherthings。Thesoldiergotonthesubjectofthewar。Thewriter,infact,ledhimtothatsubject。ThecarpenterhadoncebeenaprisonerinAndersonvilleprisonandhadlostabrother。Thebrotherhaddiedofstarvation,andwheneverthecarpentergotuponthatsubjecthecried。He,liketheoldwriter,hadawhitemustache,andwhenhecriedhepuckereduphislipsandthemustachebobbedupanddown。Theweepingoldmanwiththecigarinhismouthwasludicrous。Theplanthewriterhadfortheraisingofhisbedwasforgottenandlaterthecarpenterdiditinhisownwayandthewriter,whowaspastsixty,hadtohelphimselfwithachairwhenhewenttobedatnight。 Inhisbedthewriterrolledoveronhissideandlayquitestill。Foryearshehadbeenbesetwithno- tionsconcerninghisheart。Hewasahardsmokerandhisheartfluttered。Theideahadgotintohismindthathewouldsometimedieunexpectedlyandalwayswhenhegotintobedhethoughtofthat。Itdidnotalarmhim。Theeffectinfactwasquiteaspecialthingandnoteasilyexplained。Itmadehimmorealive,thereinbed,thanatanyothertime。 Perfectlystillhelayandhisbodywasoldandnotofmuchuseanymore,butsomethinginsidehimwasaltogetheryoung。Hewaslikeapregnantwoman,onlythatthethinginsidehimwasnotababybutayouth。No,itwasn\'tayouth,itwasawoman,young,andwearingacoatofmaillikeaknight。Itisabsurd,yousee,totrytotellwhatwasinsidetheoldwriterashelayonhishighbedandlistenedtotheflutteringofhisheart。Thethingtogetatiswhatthewriter,ortheyoungthingwithinthewriter,wasthinkingabout。 Theoldwriter,likeallofthepeopleintheworld,hadgot,duringhislongfife,agreatmanynotionsinhishead。Hehadoncebeenquitehandsomeandanumberofwomenhadbeeninlovewithhim。 Andthen,ofcourse,hehadknownpeople,manypeople,knowntheminapeculiarlyintimatewaythatwasdifferentfromthewayinwhichyouandI knowpeople。Atleastthatiswhatthewriterthoughtandthethoughtpleasedhim。Whyquarrelwithanoldmanconcerninghisthoughts? Inthebedthewriterhadadreamthatwasnotadream。Ashegrewsomewhatsleepybutwasstillconscious,figuresbegantoappearbeforehiseyes。 Heimaginedtheyoungindescribablethingwithinhimselfwasdrivingalongprocessionoffiguresbe- forehiseyes。 Youseetheinterestinallthisliesinthefiguresthatwentbeforetheeyesofthewriter。Theywereallgrotesques。Allofthemenandwomenthewriterhadeverknownhadbecomegrotesques。 Thegrotesqueswerenotallhorrible。Somewereamusing,somealmostbeautiful,andone,awomanalldrawnoutofshape,hurttheoldmanbyhergrotesqueness。Whenshepassedhemadeanoiselikeasmalldogwhimpering。Hadyoucomeintotheroomyoumighthavesupposedtheoldmanhadunpleasantdreamsorperhapsindigestion。 Foranhourtheprocessionofgrotesquespassedbeforetheeyesoftheoldman,andthen,althoughitwasapainfulthingtodo,hecreptoutofbedandbegantowrite。Someoneofthegrotesqueshadmadeadeepimpressiononhismindandhewantedtodescribeit。 Athisdeskthewriterworkedforanhour。Intheendhewroteabookwhichhecalled\"TheBookoftheGrotesque。\"Itwasneverpublished,butIsawitonceanditmadeanindelibleimpressiononmymind。Thebookhadonecentralthoughtthatisverystrangeandhasalwaysremainedwithme。Byre- memberingitIhavebeenabletounderstandmanypeopleandthingsthatIwasneverabletounder- standbefore。Thethoughtwasinvolvedbutasimplestatementofitwouldbesomethinglikethis: Thatinthebeginningwhentheworldwasyoungtherewereagreatmanythoughtsbutnosuchthingasatruth。Manmadethetruthshimselfandeachtruthwasacompositeofagreatmanyvaguethoughts。Allaboutintheworldwerethetruthsandtheywereallbeautiful。 Theoldmanhadlistedhundredsofthetruthsinhisbook。Iwillnottrytotellyouofallofthem。 Therewasthetruthofvirginityandthetruthofpassion,thetruthofwealthandofpoverty,ofthriftandofprofligacy,ofcarelessnessandabandon。 Hundredsandhundredswerethetruthsandtheywereallbeautiful。 Andthenthepeoplecamealong。Eachasheap- pearedsnatcheduponeofthetruthsandsomewhowerequitestrongsnatchedupadozenofthem。 Itwasthetruthsthatmadethepeoplegrotesques。 Theoldmanhadquiteanelaboratetheoryconcern- ingthematter。Itwashisnotionthatthemomentoneofthepeopletookoneofthetruthstohimself,calledithistruth,andtriedtolivehislifebyit,hebecameagrotesqueandthetruthheembracedbecameafalsehood。 Youcanseeforyourselfhowtheoldman,whohadspentallofhislifewritingandwasfilledwithwords,wouldwritehundredsofpagesconcerningthismatter。Thesubjectwouldbecomesobiginhismindthathehimselfwouldbeindangerofbecom- ingagrotesque。Hedidn\'t,Isuppose,forthesamereasonthatheneverpublishedthebook。Itwastheyoungthinginsidehimthatsavedtheoldman。 Concerningtheoldcarpenterwhofixedthebedforthewriter,Ionlymentionedhimbecausehe,THEBOOKOFTHEGROTESQUE7 likemanyofwhatarecalledverycommonpeople,becamethenearestthingtowhatisunderstandableandlovableofallthegrotesquesinthewriter\'sbook。 HANDS UPONTHEHALFdecayedverandaofasmallframehousethatstoodneartheedgeofaravinenearthetownofWinesburg,Ohio,afatlittleoldmanwalkednervouslyupanddown。Acrossalongfieldthathadbeenseededforcloverbutthathadproducedonlyadensecropofyellowmustardweeds,hecouldseethepublichighwayalongwhichwentawagonfilledwithberrypickersreturningfromthefields。Theberrypickers,youthsandmaidens,laughedandshoutedboisterously。Aboycladinablueshirtleapedfromthewagonandattemptedtodragafterhimoneofthemaidens,whoscreamedandprotestedshrilly。Thefeetoftheboyintheroadkickedupacloudofdustthatfloatedacrossthefaceofthedepartingsun。Overthelongfieldcameathingirlishvoice。\"Oh,youWingBiddlebaum,combyourhair,it\'sfallingintoyoureyes,\"commandedthevoicetotheman,whowasbaldandwhosener- vouslittlehandsfiddledaboutthebarewhitefore- headasthougharrangingamassoftangledlocks。 WingBiddlebaum,foreverfrightenedandbesetbyaghostlybandofdoubts,didnotthinkofhimselfasinanywayapartofthelifeofthetownwherehehadlivedfortwentyyears。AmongallthepeopleofWinesburgbutonehadcomeclosetohim。WithGeorgeWillard,sonofTomWillard,theproprietoroftheNewWillardHouse,hehadformedsome- thinglikeafriendship。GeorgeWillardwasthere- porterontheWinesburgEagleandsometimesintheeveningshewalkedoutalongthehighwaytoWingBiddlebaum\'shouse。Nowastheoldmanwalkedupanddownontheveranda,hishandsmovingnervouslyabout,hewashopingthatGeorgeWillardwouldcomeandspendtheeveningwithhim。Afterthewagoncontainingtheberrypickershadpassed,hewentacrossthefieldthroughthetallmustardweedsandclimbingarailfencepeeredanxiouslyalongtheroadtothetown。Foramomenthestoodthus,rubbinghishandstogetherandlookingupanddowntheroad,andthen,fearovercominghim,ranbacktowalkagainupontheporchonhisownhouse。 InthepresenceofGeorgeWillard,WingBid- dlebaum,whofortwentyyearshadbeenthetownmystery,lostsomethingofhistimidity,andhisshadowypersonality,submergedinaseaofdoubts,cameforthtolookattheworld。Withtheyoungreporterathisside,heventuredinthelightofdayintoMainStreetorstrodeupanddownontherick- etyfrontporchofhisownhouse,talkingexcitedly。 Thevoicethathadbeenlowandtremblingbecameshrillandloud。Thebentfigurestraightened。Withakindofwriggle,likeafishreturnedtothebrookbythefisherman,Biddlebaumthesilentbegantotalk,strivingtoputintowordstheideasthathadbeenaccumulatedbyhismindduringlongyearsofsilence。 WingBiddlebaumtalkedmuchwithhishands。 Theslenderexpressivefingers,foreveractive,for- everstrivingtoconcealthemselvesinhispocketsorbehindhisback,cameforthandbecamethepistonrodsofhismachineryofexpression。 ThestoryofWingBiddlebaumisastoryofhands。 Theirrestlessactivity,likeuntothebeatingofthewingsofanimprisonedbird,hadgivenhimhisname。Someobscurepoetofthetownhadthoughtofit。Thehandsalarmedtheirowner。Hewantedtokeepthemhiddenawayandlookedwithamaze- mentatthequietinexpressivehandsofothermenwhoworkedbesidehiminthefields,orpassed,drivingsleepyteamsoncountryroads。 WhenhetalkedtoGeorgeWillard,WingBid- dlebaumclosedhisfistsandbeatwiththemuponatableoronthewallsofhishouse。Theactionmadehimmorecomfortable。Ifthedesiretotalkcametohimwhenthetwowerewalkinginthefields,hesoughtoutastumporthetopboardofafenceandwithhishandspoundingbusilytalkedwithre- newedease。 ThestoryofWingBiddlebaum\'shandsisworthabookinitself。Sympatheticallysetforthitwouldtapmanystrange,beautifulqualitiesinobscuremen。Itisajobforapoet。InWinesburgthehandshadattractedattentionmerelybecauseoftheiractivity。 WiththemWingBiddlebaumhadpickedashighasahundredandfortyquartsofstrawberriesinaday。 Theybecamehisdistinguishingfeature,thesourceofhisfame。Alsotheymademoregrotesqueanal- readygrotesqueandelusiveindividuality。Wines- burgwasproudofthehandsofWingBiddlebauminthesamespiritinwhichitwasproudofBankerWhite\'snewstonehouseandWesleyMoyer\'sbaystallion,TonyTip,thathadwonthetwo-fifteentrotatthefallracesinCleveland。 AsforGeorgeWillard,hehadmanytimeswantedtoaskaboutthehands。Attimesanalmostover- whelmingcuriosityhadtakenholdofhim。HefeltthattheremustbeareasonfortheirstrangeactivityandtheirinclinationtokeephiddenawayandonlyagrowingrespectforWingBiddlebaumkepthimfromblurtingoutthequestionsthatwereofteninhismind。 Oncehehadbeenonthepointofasking。Thetwowerewalkinginthefieldsonasummerafternoonandhadstoppedtosituponagrassybank。Allafter- noonWingBiddlebaumhadtalkedasoneinspired。 ByafencehehadstoppedandbeatinglikeagiantwoodpeckeruponthetopboardhadshoutedatGeorgeWillard,condemninghistendencytobetoomuchinfluencedbythepeopleabouthim,\"Youaredestroyingyourself,\"hecried。\"Youhavetheincli- nationtobealoneandtodreamandyouareafraidofdreams。Youwanttobelikeothersintownhere。 Youhearthemtalkandyoutrytoimitatethem。\" OnthegrassybankWingBiddlebaumhadtriedagaintodrivehispointhome。Hisvoicebecamesoftandreminiscent,andwithasighofcontentmenthelaunchedintoalongramblingtalk,speakingasonelostinadream。 OutofthedreamWingBiddlebaummadeapic- tureforGeorgeWillard。Inthepicturemenlivedagaininakindofpastoralgoldenage。Acrossagreenopencountrycameclean-limbedyoungmen,someafoot,somemounteduponhorses。Incrowdstheyoungmencametogatheraboutthefeetofanoldmanwhosatbeneathatreeinatinygardenandwhotalkedtothem。 WingBiddlebaumbecamewhollyinspired。Foronceheforgotthehands。SlowlytheystoleforthandlayuponGeorgeWillard\'sshoulders。Some- thingnewandboldcameintothevoicethattalked。 \"Youmusttrytoforgetallyouhavelearned,\"saidtheoldman。\"Youmustbegintodream。Fromthistimeonyoumustshutyourearstotheroaringofthevoices。\" Pausinginhisspeech,WingBiddlebaumlookedlongandearnestlyatGeorgeWillard。Hiseyesglowed。Againheraisedthehandstocaresstheboyandthenalookofhorrorsweptoverhisface。 Withaconvulsivemovementofhisbody,WingBiddlebaumsprangtohisfeetandthrusthishandsdeepintohistrouserspockets。Tearscametohiseyes。\"Imustbegettingalonghome。Icantalknomorewithyou,\"hesaidnervously。 Withoutlookingback,theoldmanhadhurrieddownthehillsideandacrossameadow,leavingGeorgeWillardperplexedandfrighteneduponthegrassyslope。Withashiverofdreadtheboyaroseandwentalongtheroadtowardtown。\"I\'llnotaskhimabouthishands,\"hethought,touchedbythememoryoftheterrorhehadseenintheman\'seyes。 \"There\'ssomethingwrong,butIdon\'twanttoknowwhatitis。Hishandshavesomethingtodowithhisfearofmeandofeveryone。\" AndGeorgeWillardwasright。Letuslookbrieflyintothestoryofthehands。Perhapsourtalkingofthemwillarousethepoetwhowilltellthehiddenwonderstoryoftheinfluenceforwhichthehandswerebutflutteringpennantsofpromise。 InhisyouthWingBiddlebaumhadbeenaschoolteacherinatowninPennsylvania。HewasnotthenknownasWingBiddlebaum,butwentbythelesseuphonicnameofAdolphMyers。AsAdolphMyershewasmuchlovedbytheboysofhisschool。 AdolphMyerswasmeantbynaturetobeateacherofyouth。Hewasoneofthoserare,little- understoodmenwhorulebyapowersogentlethatitpassesasalovableweakness。Intheirfeelingfortheboysundertheirchargesuchmenarenotunlikethefinersortofwomenintheirloveofmen。 Andyetthatisbutcrudelystated。Itneedsthepoetthere。Withtheboysofhisschool,AdolphMyershadwalkedintheeveningorhadsattalkinguntilduskupontheschoolhousestepslostinakindofdream。Hereandtherewenthishands,caressingtheshouldersoftheboys,playingaboutthetousledheads。Ashetalkedhisvoicebecamesoftandmusi- cal。Therewasacaressinthatalso。Inawaythevoiceandthehands,thestrokingoftheshouldersandthetouchingofthehairwereapartoftheschoolmaster\'sefforttocarryadreamintotheyoungminds。Bythecaressthatwasinhisfingersheex- pressedhimself。Hewasoneofthosemeninwhomtheforcethatcreateslifeisdiffused,notcentralized。 Underthecaressofhishandsdoubtanddisbeliefwentoutofthemindsoftheboysandtheybeganalsotodream。 Andthenthetragedy。Ahalf-wittedboyoftheschoolbecameenamoredoftheyoungmaster。Inhisbedatnightheimaginedunspeakablethingsandinthemorningwentforthtotellhisdreamsasfacts。 Strange,hideousaccusationsfellfromhisloose- hunglips。ThroughthePennsylvaniatownwentashiver。Hidden,shadowydoubtsthathadbeeninmen\'smindsconcerningAdolphMyersweregalva- nizedintobeliefs。 Thetragedydidnotlinger。Tremblingladswerejerkedoutofbedandquestioned。\"Heputhisarmsaboutme,\"saidone。\"Hisfingerswerealwaysplay- inginmyhair,\"saidanother。 Oneafternoonamanofthetown,HenryBrad- ford,whokeptasaloon,cametotheschoolhousedoor。CallingAdolphMyersintotheschoolyardhebegantobeathimwithhisfists。Ashishardknuck- lesbeatdownintothefrightenedfaceoftheschool- master,hiswrathbecamemoreandmoreterrible。 Screamingwithdismay,thechildrenranhereandtherelikedisturbedinsects。\"I\'llteachyoutoputyourhandsonmyboy,youbeast,\"roaredthesa- loonkeeper,who,tiredofbeatingthemaster,hadbeguntokickhimabouttheyard。 AdolphMyerswasdrivenfromthePennsylvaniatowninthenight。Withlanternsintheirhandsadozenmencametothedoorofthehousewherehelivedaloneandcommandedthathedressandcomeforth。Itwasrainingandoneofthemenhadaropeinhishands。Theyhadintendedtohangtheschool- master,butsomethinginhisfigure,sosmall,white,andpitiful,touchedtheirheartsandtheylethimescape。Asheranawayintothedarknesstheyre- pentedoftheirweaknessandranafterhim,swear- ingandthrowingsticksandgreatballsofsoftmudatthefigurethatscreamedandranfasterandfasterintothedarkness。 FortwentyyearsAdolphMyershadlivedaloneinWinesburg。Hewasbutfortybutlookedsixty- five。ThenameofBiddlebaumhegotfromaboxofgoodsseenatafreightstationashehurriedthroughaneasternOhiotown。HehadanauntinWines- burg,ablack-toothedoldwomanwhoraisedchick- ens,andwithherheliveduntilshedied。HehadbeenillforayearaftertheexperienceinPennsylva- nia,andafterhisrecoveryworkedasadaylaborerinthefields,goingtimidlyaboutandstrivingtocon- cealhishands。Althoughhedidnotunderstandwhathadhappenedhefeltthatthehandsmustbetoblame。Againandagainthefathersoftheboyshadtalkedofthehands。\"Keepyourhandstoyour- self,\"thesaloonkeeperhadroared,dancing,withfuryintheschoolhouseyard。 Upontheverandaofhishousebytheravine,WingBiddlebaumcontinuedtowalkupanddownuntilthesunhaddisappearedandtheroadbeyondthefieldwaslostinthegreyshadows。Goingintohishousehecutslicesofbreadandspreadhoneyuponthem。Whentherumbleoftheeveningtrainthattookawaytheexpresscarsloadedwiththeday\'sharvestofberrieshadpassedandrestoredthesilenceofthesummernight,hewentagaintowalkupontheveranda。Inthedarknesshecouldnotseethehandsandtheybecamequiet。Althoughhestillhungeredforthepresenceoftheboy,whowasthemediumthroughwhichheexpressedhisloveofman,thehungerbecameagainapartofhisloneli- nessandhiswaiting。Lightingalamp,WingBid- dlebaumwashedthefewdishessoiledbyhissimplemealand,settingupafoldingcotbythescreendoorthatledtotheporch,preparedtoundressforthenight。Afewstraywhitebreadcrumbslayonthecleanlywashedfloorbythetable;puttingthelampuponalowstoolhebegantopickupthecrumbs,carryingthemtohismouthonebyonewithunbe- lievablerapidity。Inthedenseblotchoflightbeneaththetable,thekneelingfigurelookedlikeapriestengagedinsomeserviceofhischurch。Thenervousexpressivefingers,flashinginandoutofthelight,mightwellhavebeenmistakenforthefingersofthedevoteegoingswiftlythroughdecadeafterdecadeofhisrosary。 PAPERPILLS HEWASANoldmanwithawhitebeardandhugenoseandhands。Longbeforethetimeduringwhichwewillknowhim,hewasadoctoranddroveajadedwhitehorsefromhousetohousethroughthestreetsofWinesburg。Laterhemarriedagirlwhohadmoney。Shehadbeenleftalargefertilefarmwhenherfatherdied。Thegirlwasquiet,tall,anddark,andtomanypeoplesheseemedverybeauti- ful。EveryoneinWinesburgwonderedwhyshemar- riedthedoctor。Withinayearafterthemarriageshedied。 Theknucklesofthedoctor\'shandswereextraordi- narilylarge。Whenthehandswereclosedtheylookedlikeclustersofunpaintedwoodenballsaslargeaswalnutsfastenedtogetherbysteelrods。Hesmokedacobpipeandafterhiswife\'sdeathsatalldayinhisemptyofficeclosebyawindowthatwascoveredwithcobwebs。Heneveropenedthewin- dow。OnceonahotdayinAugusthetriedbutfounditstuckfastandafterthatheforgotallaboutit。 Winesburghadforgottentheoldman,butinDoc- torReefythereweretheseedsofsomethingveryfine。AloneinhismustyofficeintheHeffnerBlockabovetheParisDryGoodsCompany\'sstore,heworkedceaselessly,buildingupsomethingthathehimselfdestroyed。Littlepyramidsoftruthheerectedandaftererectingknockedthemdownagainthathemighthavethetruthstoerectotherpyramids。 DoctorReefywasatallmanwhohadwornonesuitofclothesfortenyears。Itwasfrayedatthesleevesandlittleholeshadappearedatthekneesandelbows。Intheofficeheworealsoalinendusterwithhugepocketsintowhichhecontinuallystuffedscrapsofpaper。Aftersomeweeksthescrapsofpaperbecamelittlehardroundballs,andwhenthepocketswerefilledhedumpedthemoutuponthefloor。Fortenyearshehadbutonefriend,anotheroldmannamedJohnSpaniardwhoownedatreenursery。Sometimes,inaplayfulmood,oldDoctorReefytookfromhispocketsahandfulofthepaperballsandthrewthematthenurseryman。\"Thatistoconfoundyou,youblatheringoldsentimentalist,\" hecried,shakingwithlaughter。 ThestoryofDoctorReefyandhiscourtshipofthetalldarkgirlwhobecamehiswifeandlefthermoneytohimisaverycuriousstory。Itisdelicious,likethetwistedlittleapplesthatgrowintheor- chardsofWinesburg。Inthefallonewalksintheorchardsandthegroundishardwithfrostunder- foot。Theappleshavebeentakenfromthetreesbythepickers。Theyhavebeenputinbarrelsandshippedtothecitieswheretheywillbeeateninapartmentsthatarefilledwithbooks,magazines,furniture,andpeople。Onthetreesareonlyafewgnarledapplesthatthepickershaverejected。TheylookliketheknucklesofDoctorReefy\'shands。Onenibblesatthemandtheyaredelicious。Intoalittleroundplaceatthesideoftheapplehasbeengath- eredallofitssweetness。Onerunsfromtreetotreeoverthefrostedgroundpickingthegnarled,twistedapplesandfillinghispocketswiththem。Onlythefewknowthesweetnessofthetwistedapples。 ThegirlandDoctorReefybegantheircourtshiponasummerafternoon。Hewasforty-fivethenandalreadyhehadbegunthepracticeoffillinghispock- etswiththescrapsofpaperthatbecamehardballsandwerethrownaway。Thehabithadbeenformedashesatinhisbuggybehindthejadedwhitehorseandwentslowlyalongcountryroads。Onthepaperswerewrittenthoughts,endsofthoughts,beginningsofthoughts。 OnebyonethemindofDoctorReefyhadmadethethoughts。Outofmanyofthemheformedatruththatarosegiganticinhismind。Thetruthcloudedtheworld。Itbecameterribleandthenfadedawayandthelittlethoughtsbeganagain。 ThetalldarkgirlcametoseeDoctorReefybecauseshewasinthefamilywayandhadbecomefright- ened。Shewasinthatconditionbecauseofaseriesofcircumstancesalsocurious。 Thedeathofherfatherandmotherandtherichacresoflandthathadcomedowntoherhadsetatrainofsuitorsonherheels。Fortwoyearsshesawsuitorsalmosteveryevening。Excepttwotheywereallalike。Theytalkedtoherofpassionandtherewasastrainedeagerqualityintheirvoicesandintheireyeswhentheylookedather。Thetwowhoweredifferentweremuchunlikeeachother。Oneofthem,aslenderyoungmanwithwhitehands,thesonofajewelerinWinesburg,talkedcontinuallyofvirginity。Whenhewaswithherhewasneveroffthesubject。Theother,ablack-hairedboywithlargeears,saidnothingatallbutalwaysmanagedtogetherintothedarkness,wherehebegantokissher。 Foratimethetalldarkgirlthoughtshewouldmarrythejeweler\'sson。Forhoursshesatinsilencelisteningashetalkedtoherandthenshebegantobeafraidofsomething。Beneathhistalkofvirginityshebegantothinktherewasalustgreaterthaninalltheothers。Attimesitseemedtoherthatashetalkedhewasholdingherbodyinhishands。Sheimaginedhimturningitslowlyaboutinthewhitehandsandstaringatit。Atnightshedreamedthathehadbittenintoherbodyandthathisjawsweredripping。Shehadthedreamthreetimes,thenshebecameinthefamilywaytotheonewhosaidnoth- ingatallbutwhointhemomentofhispassionactuallydidbitehershouldersothatfordaysthemarksofhisteethshowed。 AfterthetalldarkgirlcametoknowDoctorReefyitseemedtoherthatsheneverwantedtoleavehimagain。Shewentintohisofficeonemorningandwithouthersayinganythingheseemedtoknowwhathadhappenedtoher。 Intheofficeofthedoctortherewasawoman,thewifeofthemanwhokeptthebookstoreinWines- burg。Likeallold-fashionedcountrypractitioners,DoctorReefypulledteeth,andthewomanwhowaitedheldahandkerchieftoherteethandgroaned。 Herhusbandwaswithherandwhenthetoothwastakenouttheybothscreamedandbloodrandownonthewoman\'swhitedress。Thetalldarkgirldidnotpayanyattention。Whenthewomanandthemanhadgonethedoctorsmiled。\"Iwilltakeyoudrivingintothecountrywithme,\"hesaid。 Forseveralweeksthetalldarkgirlandthedoctorweretogetheralmosteveryday。Theconditionthathadbroughthertohimpassedinanillness,butshewaslikeonewhohasdiscoveredthesweetnessofthetwistedapples,shecouldnotgethermindfixedagainupontheroundperfectfruitthatiseateninthecityapartments。InthefallafterthebeginningofheracquaintanceshipwithhimshemarriedDoc- torReefyandinthefollowingspringshedied。Dur- ingthewinterhereadtoheralloftheoddsandendsofthoughtshehadscribbledonthebitsofpaper。Afterhehadreadthemhelaughedandstuffedthemawayinhispocketstobecomeroundhardballs。 MOTHER ELIZABETHWILLARD,themotherofGeorgeWillard,wastallandgauntandherfacewasmarkedwithsmallpoxscars。Althoughshewasbutforty-five,someobscurediseasehadtakenthefireoutofherfigure。Listlesslyshewentaboutthedisorderlyoldhotellookingatthefadedwall-paperandtheraggedcarpetsand,whenshewasabletobeabout,doingtheworkofachambermaidamongbedssoiledbytheslumbersoffattravelingmen。Herhusband,TomWillard,aslender,gracefulmanwithsquareshoulders,aquickmilitarystep,andablackmus- tachetrainedtoturnsharplyupattheends,triedtoputthewifeoutofhismind。Thepresenceofthetallghostlyfigure,movingslowlythroughthehalls,hetookasareproachtohimself。Whenhethoughtofherhegrewangryandswore。Thehotelwasun- profitableandforeverontheedgeoffailureandhewishedhimselfoutofit。Hethoughtoftheoldhouseandthewomanwholivedtherewithhimasthingsdefeatedanddonefor。Thehotelinwhichhehadbegunlifesohopefullywasnowamereghostofwhatahotelshouldbe。Ashewentspruceandbusiness-likethroughthestreetsofWinesburg,hesometimesstoppedandturnedquicklyaboutasthoughfearingthatthespiritofthehotelandofthewomanwouldfollowhimevenintothestreets。 \"Damnsuchalife,damnit!\"hesputteredaimlessly。 TomWillardhadapassionforvillagepoliticsandforyearshadbeentheleadingDemocratinastronglyRepublicancommunity。Someday,hetoldhimself,thefideofthingspoliticalwillturninmyfavorandtheyearsofineffectualservicecountbiginthebestowalofrewards。HedreamedofgoingtoCongressandevenofbecominggovernor。Oncewhenayoungermemberofthepartyaroseatapoliticalconferenceandbegantoboastofhisfaithfulservice,TomWillardgrewwhitewithfury。\"Shutup,you,\"heroared,glaringabout。\"Whatdoyouknowofservice?Whatareyoubutaboy?LookatwhatI\'vedonehere!IwasaDemocrathereinWinesburgwhenitwasacrimetobeaDemocrat。 Intheolddaystheyfairlyhunteduswithguns。\" BetweenElizabethandheronesonGeorgetherewasadeepunexpressedbondofsympathy,basedonagirlhooddreamthathadlongagodied。Intheson\'spresenceshewastimidandreserved,butsometimeswhilehehurriedabouttownintentuponhisdutiesasareporter,shewentintohisroomandclosingthedoorkneltbyalittledesk,madeofakitchentable,thatsatnearawindow。Intheroombythedeskshewentthroughaceremonythatwashalfaprayer,halfademand,addressedtotheskies。 Intheboyishfiguresheyearnedtoseesomethinghalfforgottenthathadoncebeenapartofherselfre- created。Theprayerconcernedthat。\"EventhoughI die,Iwillinsomewaykeepdefeatfromyou,\"shecried,andsodeepwasherdeterminationthatherwholebodyshook。Hereyesglowedandsheclenchedherfists。\"IfIamdeadandseehimbecomingameaninglessdrabfigurelikemyself,Iwillcomeback,\"shedeclared。\"IaskGodnowtogivemethatprivilege。Idemandit。Iwillpayforit。Godmaybeatmewithhisfists。Iwilltakeanyblowthatmaybefallifbutthismyboybeallowedtoexpresssome- thingforusboth。\"Pausinguncertainly,thewomanstaredabouttheboy\'sroom。\"Anddonotlethimbecomesmartandsuccessfuleither,\"sheaddedvaguely。 ThecommunionbetweenGeorgeWillardandhismotherwasoutwardlyaformalthingwithoutmean- ing。Whenshewasillandsatbythewindowinherroomhesometimeswentintheeveningtomakeheravisit。TheysatbyawindowthatlookedovertheroofofasmallframebuildingintoMainStreet。 Byturningtheirheadstheycouldseethroughan- otherwindow,alonganalleywaythatranbehindtheMainStreetstoresandintothebackdoorofAbnerGroff\'sbakery。Sometimesastheysatthusapictureofvillagelifepresenteditselftothem。AtthebackdoorofhisshopappearedAbnerGroffwithastickoranemptymilkbottleinhishand。ForalongtimetherewasafeudbetweenthebakerandagreycatthatbelongedtoSylvesterWest,thedruggist。 Theboyandhismothersawthecatcreepintothedoorofthebakeryandpresentlyemergefollowedbythebaker,whosworeandwavedhisarmsabout。 Thebaker\'seyesweresmallandredandhisblackhairandbeardwerefilledwithflourdust。Some- timeshewassoangrythat,althoughthecathaddisappeared,hehurledsticks,bitsofbrokenglass,andevensomeofthetoolsofhistradeabout。OncehebrokeawindowatthebackofSinning\'sHard- wareStore。Inthealleythegreycatcrouchedbehindbarrelsfilledwithtornpaperandbrokenbottlesabovewhichflewablackswarmofflies。Oncewhenshewasalone,andafterwatchingaprolongedandineffectualoutburstonthepartofthebaker,Eliza- bethWillardputherheaddownonherlongwhitehandsandwept。Afterthatshedidnotlookalongthealleywayanymore,buttriedtoforgetthecon- testbetweenthebeardedmanandthecat。Itseemedlikearehearsalofherownlife,terribleinitsvividness。 Intheeveningwhenthesonsatintheroomwithhismother,thesilencemadethembothfeelawk- ward。Darknesscameonandtheeveningtraincameinatthestation。Inthestreetbelowfeettrampedupanddownuponaboardsidewalk。Inthestationyard,aftertheeveningtrainhadgone,therewasaheavysilence。PerhapsSkinnerLeason,theexpressagent,movedatruckthelengthofthestationplat- form。OveronMainStreetsoundedaman\'svoice,laughing。Thedooroftheexpressofficebanged。 GeorgeWillardaroseandcrossingtheroomfumbledforthedoorknob。Sometimesheknockedagainstachair,makingitscrapealongthefloor。Bythewin- dowsatthesickwoman,perfectlystill,listless。Herlonghands,whiteandbloodless,couldbeseendroopingovertheendsofthearmsofthechair。\"I thinkyouhadbetterbeoutamongtheboys。Youaretoomuchindoors,\"shesaid,strivingtorelievetheembarrassmentofthedeparture。\"IthoughtI wouldtakeawalk,\"repliedGeorgeWillard,whofeltawkwardandconfused。 OneeveninginJuly,whenthetransientguestswhomadetheNewWillardHousetheirtemporaryhomehadbecomescarce,andthehallways,lightedonlybykerosenelampsturnedlow,wereplungedingloom,ElizabethWillardhadanadventure。Shehadbeenillinbedforseveraldaysandhersonhadnotcometovisither。Shewasalarmed。Thefeebleblazeoflifethatremainedinherbodywasblownintoaflamebyheranxietyandshecreptoutofbed,dressedandhurriedalongthehallwaytowardherson\'sroom,shakingwithexaggeratedfears。Asshewentalongshesteadiedherselfwithherhand,slippedalongthepaperedwallsofthehallandbreathedwithdifficulty。Theairwhistledthroughherteeth。Asshehurriedforwardshethoughthowfoolishshewas。\"Heisconcernedwithboyishaf- fairs,\"shetoldherself。\"Perhapshehasnowbeguntowalkaboutintheeveningwithgirls。\" ElizabethWillardhadadreadofbeingseenbyguestsinthehotelthathadoncebelongedtoherfatherandtheownershipofwhichstillstoodre- cordedinhernameinthecountycourthouse。Thehotelwascontinuallylosingpatronagebecauseofitsshabbinessandshethoughtofherselfasalsoshabby。 Herownroomwasinanobscurecornerandwhenshefeltabletoworkshevoluntarilyworkedamongthebeds,preferringthelaborthatcouldbedonewhentheguestswereabroadseekingtradeamongthemerchantsofWinesburg。 Bythedoorofherson\'sroomthemotherkneltuponthefloorandlistenedforsomesoundfromwithin。Whensheheardtheboymovingaboutandtalkinginlowtonesasmilecametoherlips。GeorgeWillardhadahabitoftalkingaloudtohimselfandtohearhimdoingsohadalwaysgivenhismotherapeculiarpleasure。Thehabitinhim,shefelt,strengthenedthesecretbondthatexistedbetweenthem。Athousandtimesshehadwhisperedtoher- selfofthematter。\"Heisgropingabout,tryingtofindhimself,\"shethought。\"Heisnotadullclod,allwordsandsmartness。Withinhimthereisasecretsomethingthatisstrivingtogrow。ItisthethingI letbekilledinmyself。\" Inthedarknessinthehallwaybythedoorthesickwomanaroseandstartedagaintowardherownroom。Shewasafraidthatthedoorwouldopenandtheboycomeuponher。Whenshehadreachedasafedistanceandwasabouttoturnacornerintoasecondhallwayshestoppedandbracingherselfwithherhandswaited,thinkingtoshakeoffatremblingfitofweaknessthathadcomeuponher。 Thepresenceoftheboyintheroomhadmadeherhappy。Inherbed,duringthelonghoursalone,thelittlefearsthathadvisitedherhadbecomegiants。 Nowtheywereallgone。\"WhenIgetbacktomyroomIshallsleep,\"shemurmuredgratefully。 ButElizabethWillardwasnottoreturntoherbedandtosleep。Asshestoodtremblinginthedarknessthedoorofherson\'sroomopenedandtheboy\'sfather,TomWillard,steppedout。Inthelightthatsteamedoutatthedoorhestoodwiththeknobinhishandandtalked。Whathesaidinfuriatedthewoman。 TomWillardwasambitiousforhisson。Hehadalwaysthoughtofhimselfasasuccessfulman,al- thoughnothinghehadeverdonehadturnedoutsuccessfully。However,whenhewasoutofsightoftheNewWillardHouseandhadnofearofcominguponhiswife,heswaggeredandbegantodrama- tizehimselfasoneofthechiefmenofthetown。Hewantedhissontosucceed。Heitwaswhohadse- curedfortheboythepositionontheWinesburgEagle。Now,witharingofearnestnessinhisvoice,hewasadvisingconcerningsomecourseofconduct。 \"Itellyouwhat,George,you\'vegottowakeup,\" hesaidsharply。\"WillHendersonhasspokentomethreetimesconcerningthematter。Hesaysyougoalongforhoursnothearingwhenyouarespokentoandactinglikeagawkygirl。Whatailsyou?\"TomWillardlaughedgood-naturedly。\"Well,Iguessyou\'llgetoverit,\"hesaid。\"ItoldWillthat。You\'renotafoolandyou\'renotawoman。You\'reTomWillard\'ssonandyou\'llwakeup。I\'mnotafraid。 Whatyousayclearsthingsup。Ifbeinganewspapermanhadputthenotionofbecomingawriterintoyourmindthat\'sallright。OnlyIguessyou\'llhavetowakeuptodothattoo,eh?\" TomWillardwentbrisklyalongthehallwayanddownaflightofstairstotheoffice。Thewomaninthedarknesscouldhearhimlaughingandtalkingwithaguestwhowasstrivingtowearawayadulleveningbydozinginachairbytheofficedoor。Shereturnedtothedoorofherson\'sroom。Theweak- nesshadpassedfromherbodyasbyamiracleandshesteppedboldlyalong。Athousandideasracedthroughherhead。Whensheheardthescrapingofachairandthesoundofapenscratchinguponpaper,sheagainturnedandwentbackalongthehallwaytoherownroom。 AdefinitedeterminationhadcomeintothemindofthedefeatedwifeoftheWinesburghotelkeeper。 Thedeterminationwastheresultoflongyearsofquietandratherineffectualthinking。\"Now,\"shetoldherself,\"Iwillact。Thereissomethingthreaten- ingmyboyandIwillwarditoff。\"ThefactthattheconversationbetweenTomWillardandhissonhadbeenratherquietandnatural,asthoughanunder- standingexistedbetweenthem,maddenedher。Al- thoughforyearsshehadhatedherhusband,herhatredhadalwaysbeforebeenaquiteimpersonalthing。Hehadbeenmerelyapartofsomethingelsethatshehated。Now,andbythefewwordsatthedoor,hehadbecomethethingpersonified。Inthedarknessofherownroomsheclenchedherfistsandglaredabout。Goingtoaclothbagthathungonanailbythewallshetookoutalongpairofsewingscissorsandheldtheminherhandlikeadagger。\"I willstabhim,\"shesaidaloud。\"HehaschosentobethevoiceofevilandIwillkillhim。WhenIhavekilledhimsomethingwillsnapwithinmyselfandI willdiealso。Itwillbeareleaseforallofus。\" InhergirlhoodandbeforehermarriagewithTomWillard,Elizabethhadborneasomewhatshakyrep- utationinWinesburg。Foryearsshehadbeenwhatiscalled\"stage-struck\"andhadparadedthroughthestreetswithtravelingmenguestsatherfather\'shotel,wearingloudclothesandurgingthemtotellheroflifeinthecitiesoutofwhichtheyhadcome。 Onceshestartledthetownbyputtingonmen\'sclothesandridingabicycledownMainStreet。 Inherownmindthetalldarkgirlhadbeeninthosedaysmuchconfused。Agreatrestlessnesswasinheranditexpresseditselfintwoways。Firsttherewasanuneasydesireforchange,forsomebigdefi- nitemovementtoherlife。Itwasthisfeelingthathadturnedhermindtothestage。Shedreamedofjoiningsomecompanyandwanderingovertheworld,seeingalwaysnewfacesandgivingsome- thingoutofherselftoallpeople。Sometimesatnightshewasquitebesideherselfwiththethought,butwhenshetriedtotalkofthemattertothemembersofthetheatricalcompaniesthatcametoWinesburgandstoppedatherfather\'shotel,shegotnowhere。 Theydidnotseemtoknowwhatshemeant,orifshedidgetsomethingofherpassionexpressed,theyonlylaughed。\"It\'snotlikethat,\"theysaid。 \"It\'sasdullanduninterestingasthishere。Nothingcomesofit。\" Withthetravelingmenwhenshewalkedaboutwiththem,andlaterwithTomWillard,itwasquitedifferent。Alwaystheyseemedtounderstandandsympathizewithher。Onthesidestreetsofthevil- lage,inthedarknessunderthetrees,theytookholdofherhandandshethoughtthatsomethingunex- pressedinherselfcameforthandbecameapartofanunexpressedsomethinginthem。 Andthentherewasthesecondexpressionofherrestlessness。Whenthatcameshefeltforatimere- leasedandhappy。ShedidnotblamethemenwhowalkedwithherandlatershedidnotblameTomWillard。Itwasalwaysthesame,beginningwithkissesandending,afterstrangewildemotions,withpeaceandthensobbingrepentance。Whenshesobbedsheputherhanduponthefaceofthemanandhadalwaysthesamethought。Eventhoughhewerelargeandbeardedshethoughthehadbecomesuddenlyalittleboy。Shewonderedwhyhedidnotsobalso。 Inherroom,tuckedawayinacorneroftheoldWillardHouse,ElizabethWillardlightedalampandputitonadressingtablethatstoodbythedoor。A thoughthadcomeintohermindandshewenttoaclosetandbroughtoutasmallsquareboxandsetitonthetable。Theboxcontainedmaterialformake- upandhadbeenleftwithotherthingsbyatheatricalcompanythathadoncebeenstrandedinWines- burg。ElizabethWillardhaddecidedthatshewouldbebeautiful。Herhairwasstillblackandtherewasagreatmassofitbraidedandcoiledaboutherhead。 Thescenethatwastotakeplaceintheofficebelowbegantogrowinhermind。Noghostlyworn-outfigureshouldconfrontTomWillard,butsomethingquiteunexpectedandstartling。Tallandwithduskycheeksandhairthatfellinamassfromhershoul- ders,afigureshouldcomestridingdownthestair- waybeforethestartledloungersinthehoteloffice。 Thefigurewouldbesilent——itwouldbeswiftandterrible。Asatigresswhosecubhadbeenthreatenedwouldsheappear,comingoutoftheshadows,steal- ingnoiselesslyalongandholdingthelongwickedscissorsinherhand。 Withalittlebrokensobinherthroat,ElizabethWillardblewoutthelightthatstooduponthetableandstoodweakandtremblinginthedarkness。Thestrengththathadbeenasamiracleinherbodyleftandshehalfreeledacrossthefloor,clutchingatthebackofthechairinwhichshehadspentsomanylongdaysstaringoutoverthetinroofsintothemainstreetofWinesburg。InthehallwaytherewasthesoundoffootstepsandGeorgeWillardcameinatthedoor。Sittinginachairbesidehismotherhebegantotalk。\"I\'mgoingtogetoutofhere,\"hesaid。\"Idon\'tknowwhereIshallgoorwhatIshalldobutIamgoingaway。\" Thewomaninthechairwaitedandtrembled。Animpulsecametoher。\"Isupposeyouhadbetterwakeup,\"shesaid。\"Youthinkthat?Youwillgotothecityandmakemoney,eh?Itwillbebetterforyou,youthink,tobeabusinessman,tobebriskandsmartandalive?\"Shewaitedandtrembled。 Thesonshookhishead。\"IsupposeIcan\'tmakeyouunderstand,butoh,IwishIcould,\"hesaidearnestly。\"Ican\'teventalktofatheraboutit。Idon\'ttry。Thereisn\'tanyuse。Idon\'tknowwhatIshalldo。Ijustwanttogoawayandlookatpeopleandthink。\" Silencefellupontheroomwheretheboyandwomansattogether。Again,asontheothereve- nings,theywereembarrassed。Afteratimetheboytriedagaintotalk。\"Isupposeitwon\'tbeforayearortwobutI\'vebeenthinkingaboutit,\"hesaid,risingandgoingtowardthedoor。\"SomethingfathersaidmakesitsurethatIshallhavetogoaway。\"Hefumbledwiththedoorknob。Intheroomthesilencebecameunbearabletothewoman。Shewantedtocryoutwithjoybecauseofthewordsthathadcomefromthelipsofherson,buttheexpressionofjoyhadbecomeimpossibletoher。\"Ithinkyouhadbet- tergooutamongtheboys。Youaretoomuchin- doors,\"shesaid。\"IthoughtIwouldgoforalittlewalk,\"repliedthesonsteppingawkwardlyoutoftheroomandclosingthedoor。 THEPHILOSOPHER DOCTORPARCIVALwasalargemanwithadroopingmouthcoveredbyayellowmustache。Healwaysworeadirtywhitewaistcoatoutofthepocketsofwhichprotrudedanumberofthekindofblackci- garsknownasstogies。Histeethwereblackandirregularandtherewassomethingstrangeabouthiseyes。Thelidofthelefteyetwitched;itfelldownandsnappedup;itwasexactlyasthoughthelidoftheeyewereawindowshadeandsomeonestoodinsidethedoctor\'sheadplayingwiththecord。 DoctorParcivalhadalikingfortheboy,GeorgeWillard。ItbeganwhenGeorgehadbeenworkingforayearontheWinesburgEagleandtheacquain-