第10章

“Ineversawhertaketoanyonesoquick，“Laurasmiled。Howardnoticedherinparticularforthefirsttime。Shehadonacleancalicodressandaginghamapron，andshelookedstrongandfreshandhandsome。Herheadwasintellectual，hereyesfullofpower。

Sheseemedanxioustoremovetheimpressionofherunpleasantlooksandwordsthenightbefore。Indeed，itwouldhavebeenhardtoresistHoward’ssunnygoodnature。

Thebabylaughedandcrowed。Theoldmothercouldnottakeherdimeyesoffthefaceofherson，butsatsmilingathimasheateandrattledon。Whenherosefromthetableatlast，aftereatingheartilyandpraisingitall，hesaidwithasmile：

“Well，nowI’lljusttelephonedowntotheexpressandhavemytrunkbroughtup。I’vegotafewlittlethingsinthereyou’llenjoyseeing。Butthisfellow，“indicatingthebaby，“Ididn’ttakeintoaccount。Butnevermind；UncleHowardmakethatallright。“

“Youain’tgoin’tolayitupaginGrant，beyou，myson？“Mrs。

McLanefalteredastheywentoutintothebestroom。

“Ofcoursenot!Hedidn’tmeanit。Now，can’tyousendworddownandhavemytrunkbroughtup？OrshallIhavetowalkdown？“

“IguessI’llseesomebodygoin’down，“saidLaura。

“Allright。Nowforthehayfield，“hesmiledandwentoutintothegloriousmorning。

Thecirclinghillsthesame，yetnotthesameasatnight。Acooler，tenderer，moresubduedcloakofcoloru~onthem。Fardownthevalleyacool，deep，impalpable，bluemistlay，underwhichonedivinedtheriverIan，underitselmsandbasswoodsandwildgrapevines。Ontheshavenslopesofthehillscattleandsheepwerefeeding，theircriesandbellscomingtotheearwithasweetsuggestiveness。Therewassomethingimmemorialinthesunnyslopesdottedwithredandbrownandgraycattle。

Walkingtowardthehaymakers，Howardfeltatwingeofpainanddistrust。Wouldheignoreitallandsmile-

Hestoppedshort。HehadnotseenGrantsmileinsolong-hecouldn’tquiteseehimsmiling。Hehadbeencoldandbitterforyears。Whenhecameuptothem，Grantwaspitchingon；theoldmanwasloading，andtheboywasrakingafter。

“Goodmorning，“Howardcriedcheerily。Theoldmannodded，theboystared。Grantgrowledsomething，with-outlookingup。These“finical“thingsofsayinggoodmorningandgoodnightarenotmuchpracticedinsuchhomesasGrantMcLane’s。

“Needsomehelp？I’mreadytotakeahand。Gotonmyregimentalsthismorning。“

Grantlookedathimamoment。

“Youlooklikeit。“

“Gimmeaholdonthatfork，andI’llshowyou。I’mnotsosoftasI

look，nowyoubet。“

HelaidholdupontheforkinGrant’shands，whor~leaseditsullenlyandstoodbacksneering。Howardstrucktheforkintothepileintheoldway，threwhislefthandtotheendofthepolishedhandle，broughtitdownintothehollowofhisthigh，andlaidouthisstrengthtillthehandlebentlikeabow。“Oopsherises!“hecalledlaughingly，asthewholepilebeganslowlytorise，andfinallyrolleduponthehighload。

“Oh，Iain’tforgothowtodoit，“helaughedashelookedaroundattheboy，whowasstudyingthejacketandhatwithadevouringgaze。

Grantwasstudyinghimtoo，butnotinadmiration。

“Ishouldn’tsayyouhad，“saidtheoldman，tuggingattheforkful。

’Mightyfunnytocomeouthereanddoalittleofthis。Butifyouhadtocomehereanddoitallthewhile，youwouldn’tlooksowhiteandsoftinthehands，“Grantsaidastheymovedontoanotherpile。“Givemethatfork。You’llbespoilingyourfineclothes。“

“Oh，thesedon’tmatter。They’remadeforthiskindofthing。“

“Oh，arethey？IguessI’lldressinthatkindofarig。Whatdidthatshirtcost？Ineedone。“

“Sixdollarsapair；butthenit’sold。“

“Andthempants，“hepursued；“theycostsixdollars，too，didn’tthey？“

Howard’sfacedarkened。Hesawhisbrother’spurpose。Heresentedit。“Theycostfifteendollars，ifyouwanttoknow，andtheshoescostsix-fifty。Thisringonmycravatcostsixtydollars，andthesuitIhadonlastnightcosteighty-five。MysuitsaremadebyBreckstein，onFifthAvenueandTwentiethStreet，ifyouwanttopatronizehim，“heendedbrutally，spurredonbythesneerinhisbrother’seyes。“I’llintroduceyou。“

“Goodidea，“saidGrantwithaforced，mockingsmile。“Ineedjustsuchagetupforhayingandcornplowing。SingularIneverthoughtofit。Nowmypantscosteighty-fivecents，s’pendersfifteen，hattwenty，shoesone-fifty；stockin’sIdon’tbotherabout。“

Hehadhisbrotheratadisadvantage，andhegrewfluentandcausticashewenton，almostchangingplaceswithHoward，whotooktherakeoutoftheboy’shandsandfollowed，rakingupthescatterings。

“Singularwefellersherearediscontentedandmulish，am’tit？

Singularwedon’tbelieveyourletterswhenyouwrite，sayin’，’Ijustaboutmakealiveofit’？Singularwethinkthecountry’sgoin’tohell，wefellers，inatwodollarsuit，wadin’aroundinthemudorsweatin’aroundinthehayfield，whileyoufellerslayaroundNewYorkandsmokeandweargoodclothesandtoadytomillionaires？“

Howardthrewdowntherakeandfoldedhisarms。’MyGod!you’reenoughtomakeamanforgetthesamemotherboreus!“

“Iguessitwouldn’ttakemuchtomakeyouforgetthat。Youain’tputmuchthoughtonmenorherfortenyears。“

Theoldmancackled，theboygrinned，andHoward，sickandweakwithangerandsorrow，turnedawayandwalkeddowntowardthebrook。Hehadtriedoncemoretogetnearhisbrotherandhadfailed。OGod!howmiserably，pitiably!Thehotbloodgushedalloverhimashethoughtoftheshameanddisgraceofit。

He，amanassociatingwithpoets，artists，soughtafterbybrilliantwomen，accustomedtodeferenceevenfromsuchpeople，tobesneeredat，outfaced，shamed，shovedaside，byamaninastainedhickoryshirtandpatchedoveralls，andthatmanhisbrother!Helaydownonthebrightgrass，withthesheepallaroundhim，andwrithedandgroanedwiththeagonyanddespairofit。

Andworstofall，underneathitwasaconsciousnessthatGrantwasrightindistrustinghim。Hehadneglectedhim；hehadsaid，“I

guessthey’regettingalongallright。“HehadputthembehindhimwhentheinvitationtospendsummerontheMediterraneanorintheAdirondackscame。

“WhatcanIdo？WhatcanIdo？“hegroaned。

Thesheepnibbledthegrassnearhim，thejayscalledpertly，“Shame，shame，“aquailpipedsomewhereonthehillside，andthebrooksungasoft，soothingmelodythattookawayatlastthesharpedgeofhispain，andhesatupandgazeddownthevalley，brightwiththesunandapparentlyfilledwithhappyandprosperouspeople。

Suddenlyathoughtseizedhim。Hestoodupsosuddenlythesheepfledinaffright。Heleapedthebrook，crossedtheflat，andbegansearchinginthebushesonthehillside。“Hurrah!“hesaidwithasmile。

Hehadfoundanoldroadwhichheusedtotravelwhenaboy-aroadthatskirtedtheedgeofthevalley，nowgrownuptobrush，butstillpassableforfootmen。Asheranlightlyalongdownthebeautifulpath，underoaksandhickories，pastmassesofpoisonivy，underhanginggrapevines，throughclumpsofsplendidhazelnutbushesloadedwithgreatsticky，rough，greenburrs，hisheartthrewoffpartofitsload。

Howitallcamebacktohim!Howmanydays，whenUpTheCoulee73

theautumnsunburnedthefrostoffthebushes，hadhegatheredhazelnutsherewithhisboyandgirlfriends-HughandShelleyMcTurg，RomeSawyer，OrrinMcIlvaine，andtherest!Whathadbecomeofthemall？Howhehadforgottenthem!

Thisthoughtstoppedhimagain，andhefellintoadeepmuse，leaningagainstanoaktreeandgazingintothevastflecklessspaceabove。Thethrilling，inscrutablemysteryoflifefelluponhimlikeablindinglight。Whywashelivinginthecrushandthunderandmentalunrestofagreatcity，whilehiscompanions，seeminglyhisequal，inpowers，weremilkingcows，makingbutter，andgrowingcornandwheatinthesilenceanddrearmonotonyofthefarm？

Hisboyishsweethearts!Theirnamescamebacktohisearnowwithadull，sweetsoundasoffaintbells。Hesawtheirfaces，theirpinksunbonnetstippedbackupontheirnecks，theirbrownanklesflyingwiththeswiftactionofthescurryingpartridge。Hiseyessoftened；hetookoffhishat。Thesoundofthewindandtheleavesmovedhimalmosttotears。

Awoodpeckergaveashrill，high-keyed，sustainedcry，“Ki，ki，ki!“

andhestartedfromhisreverie，thedapplesofsunandshadefallinguponhislithefigureashehurriedondownthepath。

Hecameatlasttoafieldofcornthattantotheverywallofalargeweather-beatenhouse，thesightofwhichmadehisbreathingquicker。Itwastheplacewherehewasborn。Themysteryofhislifebeganthere。Inthebranchesofthosepoplarandhickorytreeshehadswungandsungintherushingbreeze，fearlessasasquirrelHerewasthebrookwhere，likealargerKildee，hewithGranthadwadedaftercrawfish，orhadstolenuponsomewarytrout，rough-cutpoleinhand。

Seeingsomeoneinthegarden，hewentdownalongthecornrowthroughtherustlingranksofgreenleaves。Anoldwomanwaspickingberries，asquatandshapelessfigure。

“Goodmorning，“hecalledcheerily。

“Morgen，“shesaid，looklngupathimwithastartledandveryredface。ShewasGermanineverylineofherbody。

“IchbinHerrMcLane，“hesaidafterapause。

“So？“sherepliedwithaquestioninginflection。

“Yah；ichbinHerrGrant’sbruder。“

“Ach，So!“shesaidwithadownwardinflection。“IchnospickInglish。NospickInglis。“

“Ichbindurstig，“hesaid。Leavingherpans，shewentwithhimtothehouse，whichwaswhathewantedtosee。

“Ichbinhiergeboren。“

“Ach，so!“Sherecognizedthelittlebitofsentiment，andsaidsomesentencesmGermanwhosegeneralmeaningwassympathy。

Shetookhimtothecoolcellarwherethespringhadbeentrainedtoruninto’atankcontainingpansofcreamandmilk，shegavehimacooldraughtfromalargetincup，andthenathisrequesttheywentupstairs。Thehousewasthesame，butsomehowseemedcoldandempty。Itwascleanandsweet，butithadsolittleevidenceofbeinglivedin。Theoldpart，whichwasbuiltoflogs，wasusedasbestroom，andmodeledafterthebestroomsoftheneighboringYankeehomes，onlyitwasemptier，withoutthecabinetorganandtheragcarpetandthechromoes。

Theoldfireplacewasbrickedupandplastered-thefireplacebesidewhichinthefar-offdayshehadlainonwinternights，tohearhisunclestelltalesofhunting，ortohearthemplaytheviolin，greatdreaminggiantsthattheywere。

Theoldwomanwentoutandlefthimsittingthere，thecenterofaswarmofmemoriescomingandgoinglikesomanyghostlybirdsandbutterflies。

Acuriousheartacheandlistlessness，anervelessmoodcameonhim。Whatwasitworth，anyhow-success？Struggle，strife，tramplingonsomeoneelse。Hisplaycrowdingoutsomeotherpoorfellow’shope。Thehawkeatsthepartridge，thepartridgeeatsthefliesandbugs，thebugseateachother，andthehawk，whenheinhisturnisshotbyman。So，intheworldofbusiness，thelifeofonemanseemedtohimtobedrawnfromthelifeofanotherman，eachsuccesstospringfromotherfailures。

Hewaslikeamanfromwhomallmotiveshadbeenwithdrawn。

Hewassick，sicktotheheart。Oh，tobeaboyagain!Anignorantbaby，pleasedwithablockandstring，withnoknowledgeandnocareofthegreatun-known!Tolayhisheadagainonhismother’sbosomandrest!Towatchtheflamesonthehearth!

Whynot？Wasnotthattheverythingtodo？Tobuybacktheoldfarm？Itwouldcripplehimalittleforthenextseason，buthecoulddoit。Thinkofit!Toseehismotherbackintheoldhome，withthefireplacerestored，theoldfurnitureinthesittingroomaroundher，andfinenewthingsintheparlor!

Hisspiritsroseagain。Grantcouldn’tstandoutwhenhebroughttohimadeedofthefarm。Surelyhisdebtwouldbecanceledwhenhehadseenthemallbackinthewideoldkitchen。Hebegantoplanandtodream。Hewenttothewindowsandlookedoutontheyardtoseehowmuchithadchanged。

He’dbuildanewbarnandbuythemanewcarriage。Hisheartglowedagain，andhislipssoftenedintotheirusualfemininegrace-lipsalittlefullandfallingeasilyintocurves。

TheoldGermanwomancameinatlength，bringingsomecakesandabowlofmilk，smilingbroadlyandhospitablyasshewaddledforward。

“Ach!Goot!“hesaid，smackinghislipsoverthepleasantdraught。

“Woistihregootmann？“heinquired，readyforbusiness。