The Magnificent Ambersons Booth Tarkington (reading like a writer txt) š
- Author: Booth Tarkington
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āI see,ā said Eugene. āSo thatās why they named the place āThey-Couldnāt-Help-Itā!ā
āIt must have been.ā
āAnd so youāre going to stay here in your garden,ā he said musingly. āYou think itās better to keep on walking these sunshiny gravel paths between your flowerbeds, and growing to look like a pensive garden lady in a Victorian engraving.ā
āI suppose Iām like the tribe that lived here, papa. I had too much unpleasant excitement. It was unpleasantā ābut it was excitement. I donāt want any more; in fact, I donāt want anything but you.ā
āYou donāt?ā He looked at her keenly, and she laughed and shook her head; but he seemed perplexed, rather doubtful. āWhat was the name of the grove?ā he asked. āThe Indian name, I mean.ā
āMola-Haha.ā
āNo, it wasnāt; that wasnāt the name you said.ā
āIāve forgotten.ā
āI see you have,ā he said, his look of perplexity remaining. āPerhaps you remember the chiefās name better.ā
She shook her head again. āI donāt!ā
At this he laughed, but not very heartily, and walked slowly to the house, leaving her bending over a rosebush, and a shade more pensive than the most pensive garden lady in any Victorian engraving.
ā¦ Next day, it happened that this same āVendonahā or āRides-Down-Everythingā became the subject of a chance conversation between Eugene and his old friend Kinney, father of the fire-topped Fred. The two gentlemen found themselves smoking in neighbouring leather chairs beside a broad window at the club, after lunch.
Mr. Kinney had remarked that he expected to get his family established at the seashore by the Fourth of July, and, following a train of thought, he paused and chuckled. āFourth of July reminds me,ā he said. āHave you heard what that Georgie Minafer is doing?ā
āNo, I havenāt,ā said Eugene, and his friend failed to notice the crispness of the utterance.
āWell, sir,ā Kinney chuckled again, āit beats the devil! My boy Fred told me about it yesterday. Heās a friend of this young Henry Akers, son of F. P. Akers of the Akers Chemical Company. It seems this young Akers asked Fred if he knew a fellow named Minafer, because he knew Fred had always lived here, and young Akers had heard some way that Minafer used to be an old family name here, and was sort of curious about it. Well, sir, you remember this young Georgie sort of disappeared, after his grandfatherās death, and nobody seemed to know much what had become of himā āthough I did hear, once or twice, that he was still around somewhere. Well, sir, heās working for the Akers Chemical Company, out at their plant on the Thomasvile Road.ā
He paused, seeming to reserve something to be delivered only upon inquiry, and Eugene offered him the expected question, but only after a cold glance through the nose-glasses he had lately found it necessary to adopt. āWhat does he do?ā
Kinney laughed and slapped the arm of his chair.
āHeās a nitroglycerin expert!ā
He was gratified to see that Eugene was surprised, if not, indeed, a little startled.
āHeās what?ā
āHeās an expert on nitroglycerin. Doesnāt that beat the devil! Yes, sir! Young Akers told Fred that this George Minafer had worked like a hounā-dog ever since he got started out at the works. They have a special plant for nitroglycerin, way off from the main plant, oā courseā āin the woods somewhereā āand George Minaferās been working there, and lately they put him in charge of it. He oversees shooting oil-wells, too, and shoots āem himself, sometimes. They arenāt allowed to carry it on the railroads, you knowā āhave to team it. Young Akers says George rides around over the bumpy roads, sitting on as much as three hundred quarts of nitroglycerin! My Lord! Talk about romantic tumbles! If he gets blown sky-high some day he wonāt have a bigger drop, when he comes down, than heās already had! Donāt it beat the devil! Young Akers said heās got all the nerve there is in the world. Well, he always did have plenty of thatā āfrom the time he used to ride around here on his white pony and fight all the Irish boys in Can-Town, with his long curls all handy to be pulled out. Akers says he gets a fair salary, and I should think he ought to! Seems to me Iāve heard the average life in that sort of work is somewhere around four years, and agents donāt write any insurance at all for nitroglycerin experts. Hardly!ā
āNo,ā said Eugene. āI suppose not.ā
Kinney rose to go. āWell, itās a pretty funny thingā āpretty odd, I meanā āand I suppose it would be pass-around-the-hat for old Fanny Minafer if he blew up. Fred told me that theyāre living in some apartment house, and said Georgie supports her. He was going to study law, but couldnāt earn enough that way to take care of Fanny, so he gave it up. Fredās wife told him all this. Says Fanny doesnāt do anything but play bridge these days. Got to playing too high for awhile and lost more than she wanted to tell Georgie about, and borrowed a little from old Frank Bronson. Paid him back, though. Donāt know how Fredās
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