Before going back to New York he had stopped in Chicago, where he had seen Howe and Mathews grinding away at their old tasks, and then for a few days in Alexandria, where he found his father busy about his old affairs. Sewing machines were still being delivered by him in person, and the long roads of the country were as briskly traversed by his light machine-carrying buggy as in his earliest days. Eugene saw him now as just a little futile10, and yet he admired him, his patience, his industry. The brisk sewing machine agent was considerably11 impressed by his son's success, and was actually trying to take an interest in art. One evening coming home from the post office he pointed12 out a street scene in Alexandria as a subject for a painting. Eugene knew that art had only been called to his father's attention by his own efforts. He had noticed these things all his life, no doubt, but attached no significance to them until he had seen his son's work in the magazines. "If you ever paint country things, you ought to paint Cook's Mill, over here by the falls. That's one of the prettiest things I know anywhere," he said to him one evening, trying to make his son feel the interest he took. Eugene knew the place. It was attractive, a little branch of bright water running at the base of a forty foot wall of red sandstone and finally tumbling down a fifteen foot declivity13 of grey mossy stones. It was close to a yellow road which carried a good deal of traffic and was surrounded by a company of trees which ornamented14 it and sheltered it on all sides. Eugene had admired it in his youth as beautiful and peaceful.
"It is nice," he replied to his father. "I'll take a look at it some day."
Witla senior felt set up. His son was doing him honor. Mrs. Witla, like her husband, was showing the first notable traces of the flight of time. The crow's-feet at the sides of her eyes were deeper, the wrinkles in her forehead longer. At the sight of Eugene the first night she fairly thrilled, for he was so well developed now, so self-reliant. He had come through his experiences to a kind of poise15 which she realized was manhood. Her boy, requiring her careful guidance, was gone. This was someone who could guide her, tease her as a man would a child.
"You've got so big I hardly know you," she said, as he folded her in his arms.
"No, you're just getting little, ma. I used to think I'd never get to the point where you couldn't shake me, but that's all over, isn't it?"
"You never did need much shaking," she said fondly.
Myrtle, who had married Frank Bangs the preceding year, had gone with her husband to live in Ottumwa, Iowa, where he had taken charge of a mill, so Eugene did not see her, but he spent some little time with Sylvia, now the mother of two children. Her husband was the same quiet, conservative plodder16 Eugene had first noted17 him to be. Revisiting the office of the Appeal he found that John Summers had recently died. Otherwise things were as they had been. Jonas Lyle and Caleb Williams were still in charge—quite the same as before. Eugene was glad when his time was up, and took the train back to Chicago with a light heart.
Again as on his entrance to Chicago from the East, and on his return to it from Blackwood, he was touched keenly by the remembrance of Ruby18. She had been so sweet to him. His opening art experiences had in a way been centred about her. But in spite of all, he did not want to go out and see her. Or did he? He asked himself this question with a pang19 of sorrow, [Pg 136] for in a way he cared. He cared for her as one might care for a girl in a play or book. She had the quality of a tragedy about her. She—her life, her surroundings, her misfortune in loving him, constituted an artistic20 composition. He thought he might be able to write a poem about it some time. He was able to write rather charming verse which he kept to himself. He had the knack21 of saying things in a simple way and with feeling—making you see a picture. The trouble with his verse was that it lacked as yet any real nobility of thought—was not as final in understanding as it might have been.
点击收听单词发音
1 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
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2 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
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3 repelled | |
v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 );使厌恶;排斥;推开 | |
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4 frugality | |
n.节约,节俭 | |
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5 simplicity | |
n.简单,简易;朴素;直率,单纯 | |
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6 prospects | |
n.希望,前途(恒为复数) | |
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7 sterling | |
adj.英币的(纯粹的,货真价实的);n.英国货币(英镑) | |
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8 destined | |
adj.命中注定的;(for)以…为目的地的 | |
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9 rapport | |
n.和睦,意见一致 | |
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10 futile | |
adj.无效的,无用的,无希望的 | |
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11 considerably | |
adv.极大地;相当大地;在很大程度上 | |
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12 pointed | |
adj.尖的,直截了当的 | |
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13 declivity | |
n.下坡,倾斜面 | |
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14 ornamented | |
adj.花式字体的v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 poise | |
vt./vi. 平衡,保持平衡;n.泰然自若,自信 | |
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16 plodder | |
n.沉重行走的人,辛勤工作的人 | |
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17 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
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18 ruby | |
n.红宝石,红宝石色 | |
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19 pang | |
n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
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20 artistic | |
adj.艺术(家)的,美术(家)的;善于艺术创作的 | |
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21 knack | |
n.诀窍,做事情的灵巧的,便利的方法 | |
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