winesburg,ohio-第27部分

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and　her　voice　trembled　with　earnestness。　She　took　hold　of　George　Willard's　shoulders　and　turned　him　about　so　that　she　could　look　into　his　eyes。　　A　passer…by　might　have　thought　them　about　to　embrace。　　〃If　you　are　to　become　a　writer　you'll　have　to　stop　fooling　with　words；〃　she　explained。　　〃It　would　be　better　to　give　up　the　notion　of　writing　until　you　are　better　prepared。　　Now　it's　time　to　be　living。　　I　don't　want　to　frighten　you；　but　I　would　like　to　make　you　understand　the　import　of　what　you　think　of　attempting。　　You　must　not　become　a　mere　peddler　of　words。　　The　thing　to　learn　is　to　know　what　people　are　thinking　about；　not　what　they　say。〃

On　the　evening　before　that　stormy　Thursday　night　when　the　Reverend　Curtis　Hartman　sat　in　the　bell　tower　of　the　church　waiting　to　look　at　her　body；　young　Willard　had　gone　to　visit　the　teacher　and　to　borrow　a　book。　　It　was　then　the　thing　happened　that　confused　and　puzzled　the　boy。　　He　had　the　book　under　his　arm　and　was　preparing　to　depart。　　Again　Kate　Swift　talked　with　great　earnestness。　　Night　was　coming　on　and　the　light　in　the　room　grew　dim。　　As　he　turned　to　go　she　spoke　his　name　softly　and　with　an　impulsive　movement　took　hold　of　his　hand。　　Be…　cause　the　reporter　was　rapidly　becoming　a　man　something　of　his　man's　appeal；　combined　with　the　winsomeness　of　the　boy；　stirred　the　heart　of　the　lonely　woman。　　A　passionate　desire　to　have　him　un…　derstand　the　import　of　life；　to　learn　to　interpret　it　truly　and　honestly；　swept　over　her。　　Leaning　for…　ward；　her　lips　brushed　his　cheek。　　At　the　same　mo…　ment　he　for　the　first　time　became　aware　of　the　marked　beauty　of　her　features。　　They　were　both　em…　barrassed；　and　to　relieve　her　feeling　she　became　harsh　and　domineering。　　〃What's　the　use？　It　will　be　ten　years　before　you　begin　to　understand　what　I　mean　when　I　talk　to　you；〃　she　cried　passionately。


On　the　night　of　the　storm　and　while　the　minister　sat　in　the　church　waiting　for　her；　Kate　Swift　went　to　the　office　of　the　Winesburg　Eagle；　intending　to　have　another　talk　with　the　boy。　　After　the　long　walk　in　the　snow　she　was　cold；　lonely；　and　tired。　　As　she　came　through　Main　Street　she　saw　the　fight　from　the　printshop　window　shining　on　the　snow　and　on　an　impulse　opened　the　door　and　went　in。　　For　an　hour　she　sat　by　the　stove　in　the　office　talking　of　life。　　She　talked　with　passionate　earnestness。　　The　impulse　that　had　driven　her　out　into　the　snow　poured　itself　out　into　talk。　　She　became　inspired　as　she　sometimes　did　in　the　presence　of　the　children　in　school。　　A　great　eagerness　to　open　the　door　of　life　to　the　boy；　who　had　been　her　pupil　and　who　she　thought　might　pos…　sess　a　talent　for　the　understanding　of　life；　had　pos…　session　of　her。　　So　strong　was　her　passion　that　it　became　something　physical。　　Again　her　hands　took　hold　of　his　shoulders　and　she　turned　him　about。　　In　the　dim　light　her　eyes　blazed。　　She　arose　and　laughed；　not　sharply　as　was　customary　with　her；　but　in　a　queer；　hesitating　way。　　〃I　must　be　going；〃　she　said。　　〃In　a　moment；　if　I　stay；　I'll　be　wanting　to　kiss　you。〃

In　the　newspaper　office　a　confusion　arose。　　Kate　Swift　turned　and　walked　to　the　door。　　She　was　a　teacher　but　she　was　also　a　woman。　　As　she　looked　at　George　Willard；　the　passionate　desire　to　be　loved　by　a　man；　that　had　a　thousand　times　before　swept　like　a　storm　over　her　body；　took　possession　of　her。　In　the　lamplight　George　Willard　looked　no　longer　a　boy；　but　a　man　ready　to　play　the　part　of　a　man。

The　school　teacher　let　George　Willard　take　her　into　his　arms。　　In　the　warm　little　office　the　air　became　suddenly　heavy　and　the　strength　went　out　of　her　body。　　Leaning　against　a　low　counter　by　the　door　she　waited。　　When　he　came　and　put　a　hand　on　her　shoul…　der　she　turned　and　let　her　body　fall　heavily　against　him。　　For　George　Willard　the　confusion　was　immedi…　ately　increased。　　For　a　moment　he　held　the　body　of　the　woman　tightly　against　his　body　and　then　it　stiff…　ened。　　Two　sharp　little　fists　began　to　beat　on　his　face。　When　the　school　teacher　had　run　away　and　left　him　alone；　he　walked　up　and　down　the　office　swearing　furiously。

It　was　into　this　confusion　that　the　Reverend　Curtis　Hartman　protruded　himself。　　When　he　came　in　George　Willard　thought　the　town　had　gone　mad。　Shaking　a　bleeding　fist　in　the　air；　the　minister　pro…　claimed　the　woman　George　had　only　a　moment　be…　fore　held　in　his　arms　an　instrument　of　God　bearing　a　message　of　truth。


George　blew　out　the　lamp　by　the　window　and　locking　the　door　of　the　printshop　went　home。　Through　the　hotel　office；　past　Hop　Higgins　lost　in　his　dream　of　the　raising　of　ferrets；　he　went　and　up　into　his　own　room。　　The　fire　in　the　stove　had　gone　out　and　he　undressed　in　the　cold。　　When　he　got　into　bed　the　sheets　were　like　blankets　of　dry　snow。

George　Willard　rolled　about　in　the　bed　on　which　had　lain　in　the　afternoon　hugging　the　pillow　and　thinking　thoughts　of　Kate　Swift。　　The　words　of　the　minister；　who　he　thought　had　gone　suddenly　in…　sane；　rang　in　his　ears。　　His　eyes　stared　about　the　room。　　The　resentment；　natural　to　the　baffled　male；　passed　and　he　tried　to　understand　what　had　hap…　pened。　　He　could　not　make　it　out。　　Over　and　over　he　turned　the　matter　in　his　mind。　　Hours　passed　and　he　began　to　think　it　must　be　time　for　another　day　to　come。　　At　four　o'clock　he　pulled　the　covers　up　about　his　neck　and　tried　to　sleep。　　When　he　became　drowsy　and　closed　his　eyes；　he　raised　a　hand　and　with　it　groped　about　in　the　darkness。　　〃I　have　missed　some…　thing。　　I　have　missed　something　Kate　Swift　was　try…　ing　to　tell　me；〃　he　muttered　sleepily。　　Then　he　slept　and　in　all　Winesburg　he　was　the　last　soul　on　that　winter　night　to　go　to　sleep。




LONELINESS

HE　WAS　THE　son　of　Mrs。　Al　Robinson　who　once　owned　a　farm　on　a　side　road　leading　off　Trunion　Pike；　east　of　Winesburg　and　two　miles　beyond　the　town　limits。　　The　farmhouse　was　painted　brown　and　the　blinds　to　all　of　the　windows　facing　the　road　were　kept　closed。　　In　the　road　before　the　house　a　flock　of　chickens；　accompanied　by　two　guinea　hens；　lay　in　the　deep　dust。　　Enoch　lived　in　the　house　with　his　mother　in　those　days　and　when　he　was　a　young　boy　went　to　school　at　the　Winesburg　High　School。　　Old　citizens　remembered　him　as　a　quiet；　smiling　youth　inclined　to　silence。　　He　walked　in　the　middle　of　the　road　when　he　came　into　town　and　sometimes　read　a　book。　　Drivers　of　teams　had　to　shout　and　swear　to　make　him　realize　where　he　was　so　that　he　would　turn　out　of　the　beaten　track　and　let　them　pass。

When　he　was　twenty…one　years　old　Enoch　went　to　New　York　City　and　was　a　city　man　for　fifteen　years。　　He　studied　French　and　went　to　an　art　school；　hoping　to　develop　a　faculty　he　had　for　drawing。　　In　his　own　mind　he　planned　to　go　to　Paris　and　to　finish　his　art　education　among　the　masters　there；　but　that　never　turned　out。

Nothing　ever　turned　out　for　Enoch　Robinson。　　He　could　draw　well　enough　and　he　had　many　odd　deli…　cate　thoughts　hidden　away　in　his　brain　that　might　have　expressed　themselves　through　the　brush　of　a　painter；　but　he　was　always　a　child　and　that　was　a　handicap　to　his　worldly　development。　　He　never　grew　up　and　of　course　he　couldn't　understand　peo…　ple　and　he　couldn't　make　people　understand　him。　The　child　in　him　kept　bumping　against　things；　against　actualities　like　money　and　sex　and　opinions。　Once　he　was　hit　by　a　street　car　and　thrown　against　an　iron　post。　　That　made　him　lame。　　It　was　one　of　the　many　things　that　kept　things　from　turning　out　for　Enoch　Robinson

In　New　York　City；　when　he　first　went　there　to　live　and　before　he　became　confused　and　disconcerted　by　the　facts　of　life；　Enoch　went　about　a　good　deal　with　young　men。　　He　got　into　a　group　of　other　young　artists；　both　men　and　women；　and　in　the　evenings　they　sometimes　came　to　visit　him　in　his　room。　　Once　he　got　drunk　and　was　taken　to　a　police　station　where　a　police　magistrate　frightened　him　horribly；　and　once　he　tried　to　have　an　affair　with　a　woman　of　the　town　met　on　the　sidewalk　before　his　lodging　house。　　The　woman　and　Enoch　walked　together　three　blocks　and　then　the　young　man　grew　afraid　and　ran　away。　　The　woman　had　been　drinking　and　the　incident　amused　her。　　She　leaned　against　the　wall　of　a　building　and　laughed　so　heartily　that　another　man　stopped　and　laughed　with　her。　　The　two　went　away　together；　still　laughing；　and　Enoch　crept　off　to　his　room　trembling　and　vexed。

The　room　in　which　young　Robinson　lived　in　New　York　faced　Washington　Square　and　was　long　and　narrow　like　a　hallway。　　It　is　important　to　get　that　fixed　in　your　mind。　　The　story　of　Enoch　is　in　fact　the　story　of　a　room　almost　more　than　it　is　the　story　of　a　man。

And　so　into　the　room　in　the　evening　came　young　Enoch's　friends。　　There　was　nothing　particularly　striking　about　them　except　that　they　were　artists　of　the　kind　that　talk。　　Everyone　knows　of　the　talking　artists。　　Throughout　all　of　the　known　history　of　the　world　they　have　gathered　in　rooms　and　talked。　　They　talk　of　art　and　are　passionately；　almost　feverishly；　in　earnest　about　it。　　They　think　it　matters　much　more　than　it　does。

And　so　these　people　gathered　and　smoked　ciga…　rettes　and　talked　and　Enoch　Robinson；　the　boy　from　the　farm　near　Winesburg；　was　there。　　He　stayed　in　a　corner　and　for　the　most　part　said　nothing。　　How　his　big　blue　childlike　eyes　stared　about！　On　the　walls　were　pictures　he　had　made；　crude　things；　half　fin…