第12章

“Marriageisafailurethesedaysformostofus。Wecan’tliveonthefarm，andcan’tgetalivinginthecity，andthereweare。“Shelaidherhandonhisarm。“Ideclare，Howard，you’rethesameboyyouusedtobe。Iain’tabitafraidofyou，forallyoursuccess。“

“Andyou’rethesamegirl？No，Ican’tsaythat。Itseemstomeyou’vegrownmorethanIhave-Idon’tmeanphysically，Imeanmentally，“heexplainedashesawhersmileinthedefensivewayafleshygirlhas，alerttowardoffajoke。

Theywereinthemidstoftalk，Howardtellingoneofhisfunnystories，whenawagonclattereduptothedoorandmerryvoicescalledloudly：

“Whoa，there，Sampson!“

“Hullo，thehouse!“

Roselookedatherfatherwithasmileinherblackeyesexactlylikehis。Theywenttothedoor。

“Hullo!What’swanted？“

“GrantMcLanelivehere？“

“Yup。Righthere。“

Amomentlatertherecamealaughing，chattingsquadofwomentothedoor。Mrs。McLaneandLaurastaredateachotherinamazement。Grantwentoutdoors。

Rosestoodatthedoorasifshewerehostess。

“Comein，Nettie。Gladtoseeyeh-gladtoseeyeh!Mrs。Mcllvaine，comerightin!Takeaseat。Makeyerselftohome，do!AndMrs。

Peavey!Wal，Inever!Thismustbeasurpriseparty。Well，Iswan!

Howmanymoreo’yeairthey？“

Allwasconfusion，merriment，handshakingsasRoseintroducedtheminherroguishway。

“Folks，thisisMr。HowardMcLaneofNewYork。He’sanactor，butithain’tspoiledhimabitasIcansee。How，thisisNettieMcllvaine-Wilsonthatwas。“

HowardshookhandswithNettie，atall，plaingirlwithprominentteeth。

“ThisisMaMcllvaine。“

“Shelooksjustthesame，“said。Howard，shakingherhandandfeelinghowhardandwork-wornitwas。

Andsoamidbustle，chatter，andinvitations“tolayoffy’rthingsan’stayawhile，“thewomengotdisposedabouttheroomatlastThosethathadrockingchairsrockedvigorouslytoandfrotohidetheirembarrassment。Theyalltalkedinloudvoices。

Howardfeltnervousunderthisfurtivescrutiny。Hewishedhisclothesdidn’tlooksoconfoundedlydressy。Whydidn’thehavesenseenoughtogoandbuyafifteen-dollarsuitofdiagonalsforeverydaywear。

Rosewasthelifeoftheparty。Hertonguerattledonmthemostdelightfulway。

“It’sallRosean’Bill’sdoin’s，“Mrs。Mcllvaineexplained。“Theytoldustocomeoveran’pickupanybodyweseeontheroad。Sowedid。“

Howardwincedalittleatherfamiliarityoftone。Hecouldn’thelpitforthelifeofhim。

“Well，IwantedtocometonightbecauseI’mgoingawaynextweek，andIwantedtoseehowhe’dactatasurprisepartyagain，“

Roseexplained。

“Married，Is’pose，“saidMrs。Mcllvaineabruptly。

“No，notyet。“

“Goodland!Why，y’Inns’bethirty-five，How。Mustadis’p’intedy’rmamnottohaveayoung’untocall’ergranny。“

Themencameclumpingin，talkingabouthayingandhorses。

SomeoftheolderonesHowardknewandgreeted，buttheyoungeronesweremainlytoomuchchanged。Theywereallveryillatease。

Mostofthemwereincompromisedress-somethinglyingbetweenworking“rig“andSundaydress。Mostofthemhadoncleanshirtsandpapercollars，andworetheirSundaycoats(thickwoolengarments)overroughtrousers。Allofthemcrossedtheirlegsatonce，andmostofthemsoughtthewallandleanedbackperilously~uponthehindlegsoftheirchairs，eyeingHowardslowly。

Forthefirstfewminutesthepresentswerethesubjectsofconversation。Thewomenespeciallyspentagooddealoftalkuponthem。

Howardfoundhimselfforcedtotakingtheinitiative，soheinquiredaboutthecropsandaboutthefarms。

“Iseeyoudon’tplowthehillsasweusedto。Andreap’。Whatajobitusttobe。Itmakesthehillsmorebeautifultohavethemcoveredwithsmoothgrassandcattle。“

Therewasonlydeadsilencetothistouchingupontheideaofbeauty。

“Is’poseitpaysreasonably。“

“Notenoughtokill，“saidoneoftheyoungermen。“Youc’nseethatbythehouseswelivein-thatis，mostofus。Afewthatcameinearlyan’gotlandcheap，likeMcllvaine，here-hegotaliftthattherestofuscan’tget。“

“I’mafreetrader，myself，“saidoneyoungfellow，blushingandlookingawayasHowardturnedandsaidcheerily：

“So’mI。“

Therestsemedtofeelthatthiswasatabooedsubject-asubjecttobetalkedoutofdoors，whereonecouldpranceaboutandyellanddojusticetoit。

Grantsatsilentlyinthekitchendoorway，notsayingaword，notlookingathis。brother。

“Well，Idon’tneverusehotvinegarformine，“Mrs。Mcllvainewasheardtosay。“Ijestusehotwater，an’Irinse’emoutgood，andset’embottom-sideupinthesun。Ido’knowbutwhathotvinegarwouldbemorecleansin’。“

Rosehadtheyoungerfolksinagigglewithadrolltellingofajokeonherself。

“How’dy’stop’emfromlaffin’？“

“Ilet’emlaugh。Oh，myschoolisadisgrace-soonedirectorsays。

ButIliketoseechildrenlaugh。Itbroadenstheircheeks。“

“Yes，that’sallhandwork。“Laurawasshowingthebaby’sSundayclothes。

“GoodnessPeter!Howdoyoufindtimetodosomuch？“

“Itaketime。“

Howard，beingthelionoftheevening，triedhisbesttobeagreeable。Hekeptnearhismother，becauseitaffordedhersomuchprideandsatisfaction，andbecausehewasobligedtokeepawayfromGrant，whohadbeguntotalktothemen。Howardtall~edmainlyabouttheiraffairs，butstillwasforcedmoreandmoreintotalkingoflifeinthecity。Ashetoldofthetheaterandtheconcerts，asuddenchangefelluponthem；theygrewsober，andhefeltdeepdownintheheartsofthesepeopleamelancholywhichwasexpressedonlyelusivelywithlittletonesorsighs。Theirgaietywasfitful。

Theywerehungryfortheworld，forart-theseyoungpeople。

Discontentedandyethardlydaringtoacknowledgeit；indeed，fewofthemcouldhavemadedefinitestatementoftheirdissatisfaction。Theolderpeoplefeltitless。Theypracticallysaid，withasighofpatheticresignation：

“Well，Idon’texpectevertoseethesethingsnow……“

Acasualobserverwouldhavesaid，“Whatapleasantbucolic-thislittlesurprisepartyofwelcome!“ButHowardwithhisnativeearandeyehadnosuchpleasingillusion。Heknewtoowellthesesuggestionsofdespairandbitterness。Heknewthat，likethesmileoftheslave，thischeerfulnesswasself-defense；deepdownwasanotherself。

SeeingGranttalkingwithagroupofmenoverbythekitchendoor，hecrossedoverslowlyandstoodlistening。WesleyCosgrove-atall，rawbonedyoungfellowwithagrave，almosttragicface-wassaying：

“OfcourseIain’t。Whois？Amanthat’ssatisfiedtoliveaswedoisafool。“

“Theworstofitis，“saidGrantwithoutseeingHoward，amancan’tgetoutofitduringhislifetime，andldon’tknowthathe’llhaveanychanceinthenext-thespeculator’llbethereaheadofus。“

Therestlaughed，butGrantwentongrily：

“TenyearsagoWes，here，couldhavegotlandinDakotaprettyeasy，butnowit’saboutallafeller’slife’sworthtotryit。Itellyouthingsseemshuttin’downonusfellers。“

“Plentyo’landtorent？“suggestedsomeone。

“Yes，intermsthatskinamanalive。Morethanthat，farmin’ain’tsofreealifeasitusedtobe。Thiscattle-raisin’andbutter-makin’

makesaniggerofaman。Bindshimrightdowntothegrindstone，andhegetsnothin’outofit-that’swhatrubsitin。Hesimplywallersaroundinthemanureforsomebodyelse。I’dliketoknowwhataman’slifeisworthwholivesaswedo？Howmuchhigherisitthanthelivestheniggersusedtolive？“

ThesebrutallybaldwordsmadeHowardthrillwitbemotionlikesomegreattragicpoem。Asilencefellonthegroup。

“That’stheGod’struth，Grant，“saidyoungCosgroveafterapause。

“Amanlikemeishelpless，“Grantwassaying。“Justlikeaflyinapanofmolasses。Thereain’tanyescapeforhim。Themorehetearsaround，themoreliableheistoriphislegsoff。“

“Whatcanhedo？“

Themenlistenedinsilence。

“Oh，come，don’ttalkpoliticsallnight!“criedRose，breakingin。

“Come，let’shaveadance。Where’sthatfiddle？“

“Fiddle!“criedHoward，gladofachancetolaugh。“Well，now!

Bringoutthatfiddle。IsitWilliam’s？“

“Yes，Pap’soldfiddle。“

“Oh，gosh!hedon’twanttohearmeplay，“pr~testedWilliam。

“He’sheards’manyfiddlers。“

“Fiddlers!I’veheardathousandviolinists，butnotfiddlers。Come，giveus’HonestJohn。’“

Williamtookthefiddleinhiswork-callousedandcrookedhandsandbegantuningit。Thegroupatthekitchendoorturnedtolisten，theirfaceslightingupalittle。Rosetriedtogetasetonthefloor。

“Oh，goodland!“saidsome。“We’realltuckeredout。Whatmakesyousoanxious？“

“ShewantsachancetodancewiththeNewYorker。“

“That’sitexactly，“Roseadmitted。

“Wal，ifyou’dchurnedandmoppedandcookedforhayin’handsasIhavetoday，youwouldn’tbesofullo’nonsense。“

“Oh，bother!Life’sshort。Comequick，getBettieout。Come，Wes，nevermindyourhobbyhorse。“

Byincredibleexertionshegotasetonthefloor，andWilliamgotthefiddleintune。HowardlookedacrossatWesley，andthoughtthechangeinhimsplendidlydramatic。Hisfacehadlightedupintoakindofdeprecating，boyishsmile。Rosecoulddoanythingwithhim。

Williamplayedsomeoftheoldtunesthathadathou-sandassociatedmemoriesinHoward’sbrain，memoriesofharvestmoons，ofmelonfeasts，andofclear，coldwinternights。Ashedanced，hiseyesfilledwithatender，luminouslight。Hecameclosertothemallthanhehadbeenabletodobefore。Granthadgoneoutintothekitchen。

Aftertwoorthreesetshadbeendanced，thecompanytookseatsandcouldnotbestirredagain。SoLauraandRosedisappearedforafewmoments，andreturning，servedstrawberriesandcream，whichshe“justhappenedtohaveinthehouse。“

AndthenWilliamplayedagain。Hisfingers，nowgrownmoresupple，broughtoutclearer，firmertones。Asheplayed，silencefellonthesepeople。Themagicofmusicsoberedeveryface；thewomenlookedolderandmorecareworn，themenslouchedsullenlyintheirchairsorleanedbackagainstthewall。

ItseemedtoHowardasifthespiritoftragedyhadenteredthishouse。MusichadalwaysbeenWilliam’sunconsciousexpressionofhisunsatisfieddesires。Hewasnevermelancholyexceptwhenheplayed。Thenhiseyesgrewsomber，hisdroopingfacefullofshadows。

Heplayedonslowly，softly，wailingScotchtunesandmournfulIrishsongs。Heseemedtofindinthesongsofthesepeople，andespeciallyinawild，sweet，low-keyedNegrosong，someexpressionforhisindefinableinnermelancholy。

Heplayedon，forgetfulofeverybody，hislongbeardsweepingtheviolin，histoilwornhandsmarvelouslyobedienttohiswill。

Atlasthestopped，lookedupwithafaint，deprecatingsmile，andsaidwithasigh：

“Well，folkses，timetogohome。“

Thegoingwasquiet。Notmuchlaughing。Howardstoodatthedoorandsaidgoodnighttothemall，hisheartverytender。

“Comeandseeus，“theysaid。

“Iwill，“herepliedcordially。“I’lltryandgetaroundtoseeeverybody，andtalkoveroldtimes，beforeIgoback。“

Afterthewagonshaddrivenoutoftheyard，Howardturnedandputhisarmabouthismother’sneck。

“Tired？“

“Alittle。“