National Avenue Booth Tarkington (best e reader for academics .txt) đ
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- Author: Booth Tarkington
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âYou think sheâll be a great help to you, do you, while youâre working with a wheelbarrow out on Ornabyâs farm?â
âDo I?â he exclaimed, and added radiantly: âââA help?â Why, grandma, sheâ âsheâll be a great deal more than a help; sheâll be an inspiration! Thatâs exactly what sheâll be, grandma.â
Old Mrs. Savage looked at him fixedly, sighed, and spoke as in a reverie. âAh, me! How many, many young men Iâve seen believing such things in my long time here! How many, many Iâve seen that were going to do big things, and how many that thought some no-account girl was going to be their inspiration!â
âGrandma!â he cried indignantly, and rose from his chair. âYou havenât any right to speak of her like that.â
âNo right?â she said quietly. âNo, I sâpose not. I wonder how many hundred times in my life Iâve been told I hadnât any right to speak the truth. It must be so.â
âBut it isnât the truth,â Dan protested, and in a plaintive agitation he moved toward the door. âI showed you a photograph of the sweetest, noblest, most beautiful woman thatâs ever come into my life, and you speak of her asâ âasâ âwell, as you just did speak of her, grandma! I wouldnât hurt your feelings for the world, but Iâ âwell, you arenât fair. I donât want to say any more than that, so I expect I better go.â
âWait!â she said sharply; and he halted in the doorway. âYou wait a minute, young man. Iâm going to say my last say to you, and you better listen!â
âYes, of course I will, if you want me to, grandma,â he assented, as he came back into the room and stood before her. âOnly I hope you wonât say anything against her; and I donât think you ought to call it your âlast sayâ to me. Iâm sure you wonât stop speakinâ to me.â
âWonât I?â she asked; and he was aware of a strange pathos in her glance, and that her head constantly shook a little. âWonât I? Iâm going to stop speaking to everybody, Dan, before long.â
âBut you look so well, grandma; you oughtnât to talk like that.â
âNever mind. My talking is about over, but Iâm going to tell you something you may remember when I canât talk any more at all. Your father and mother wonât even try to have any influence with you; they havenât raised their children the way I did mine. Your father and mother have always been too easygoing with you to really help you by disciplining you when you wanted to do anything wrong, and theyâll both act the gentle fool with you now, just as they always have about everything. They wonât stop you from going ahead with this photograph girl.â
âNo,â Dan said gently;â ââand nothing could stop me, grandma. I told you sheâs the finest, most beautifulâ ââ
âBe quiet!â the old lady cried. âHow much of that same sort of twaddle do you suppose a bodyâs heard in a life of ninety-two years? How many times do you suppose Iâve had to listen to just such stuff? Good heavens!â
âBut, grandmaâ ââ
âYou listen to me!â she said with sudden ferocity. âYou donât know anything about the girl, and you donât know anything about yourself. At your age you donât know anything about anything. You donât even know you donât know. And another thing you donât know is, how much youâve told me about this girl and her family without knowing it.â
âGrandma, I told you theyâre fine people andâ ââ
âFine people!â she said bitterly. âOh, yes! And how have they treated you?â
âWhy, arenât they givinâ me theirâ âtheir dearest treasure? Doesnât that show how theyâ ââ
âYes, doesnât it?â she interrupted. âIt shows how much of a treasure they think she is!â
âGrandmaâ ââ
âYou listen! Youâre a splendid young man, Dan Oliphant. Youâre good-looking; youâre honourable as the daylight; youâre kindhearted, and youâd be just as polite to a nigger or a dog as you would to the President; and anybody can tell all that about you by just looking at you once. But this good-for-nothing girl and her good-for-nothing family have made you feel you werenât anybody at all, and ought to feel flattered to scrub their doormat! Donât tell me! They have! And because you let yourself get as soft as a ninny over a silly little pretty face, you truckle to âem.â
âGrandma!â He laughed despairingly. âI havenât been truckling to anybody.â
âYou have, and sheâll keep you at it all your life!â the old lady said angrily. âI know what that face means. Iâve seen a thousand just like it! Sheâll use you and make you truckle to be used! And if you give in to her and live in her town, sheâll despise you. If you make her come and live in your town, sheâll hate you. But sheâll always keep you truckling. Your only chance is to get rid of her.â
âGrandma,â he said desperately;â ââIâm sorry, but I canât hear you talk this way about the sweetest, the most perfect, the loveliestâ ââ
âGet rid of her!â she cried. And as the distressed young man went out into the hall she leaned forward in her chair, shaking at him a piteously bent and emaciated forefinger. âYou get rid of her, if you donât want to die in the gutter! Get rid of her!â
VDan walked home from his grandmotherâs with the wind blowing a fine snow against his chest, within which something seemed to be displaced and painful. Higher up, under the cold sleek band of his tall hat, there was a stricken puzzlement; and no doubt he was in hard case. For a young lover rebuffed upon speaking of his sweetheart is like a fine artist who has made some fragile, exquisite thing and offers it confidently in tender pride, only to see it buffeted and
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