Hooking Watermelons, by
Edward Bellamy
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Title: Hooking Watermelons 1898
Author: Edward Bellamy
Release Date: September 21, 2007 [EBook #22703]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOOKING
WATERMELONS ***
Produced by David Widger
HOOKING WATERMELONS
By Edward Bellamy
1898
The train slackened, a brakeman thrust his head in at the door and
shouted "Bah,"--a mysterious formality observed on American trains as
they enter towns,--and an elderly lady, two drummers, and a young
man with a satchel got out, followed by the languid envy of the other
passengers, who had longer or shorter penances of heat and dust before
them. The train got under way again, while the knot of loafers about the
station proceeded to eye the arrivals as judicially as if they were a
committee of safety to protect the village from invasion by doubtful
characters. The old lady, apparently laboring under some such
impression, regarded them deferentially, as nervous travelers on
arriving in strange places generally do regard everybody who seems to
feel at home. The drummers briskly disappeared down the main street,
each anxious to anticipate the other at the stores. The young man with
the satchel, however, did not get away till he had shaken hands and
exchanged a few good-natured inquiries with one of the loungers.
"Who's that, Bill?" asked one of the group, staring after the retreating
figure with lazy curiosity.
"Why, did n't you know him? Thought everybody knew him. That's
Arthur Steele," replied the one who had shaken hands, in a tone of
cordiality indicating that his politeness had left a pleasant impression
on his mind, as Arthur Steele's politeness generally did.
"Who is he, anyhow?" pursued the other.
"Why, he 's a Fairfield boy" (the brakeman pronounced it "Bah"), "born
and brought up here. His folks allers lived right next to mine, and now
he's doin' a rushin' lawyer trade down New York, and I expect he's just
rakin' the stamps. Did yer see that diamond pin he wore?"
"S'pose it's genooine?" asked a third loafer, with interest.
"Course it was. I tell you he's on the make, and don't you forgit it.
Some fellers allers has luck. Many 's the time he 'n' I 've been in
swim-min' and hookin' apples together when we wuz little chaps,"
pursued Bill, in a tone implying a mild reproach at the deceitfulness of
an analogy that after such fair promise in early life had failed to
complete itself in their later fortunes.
"Why, darn it all, you know him, Jim," he continued, dropping the tone
of pensive reminiscence into which he had momentarily allowed
himself to fall. "That pretty gal that sings in the Baptis' choir is his
sister."
After a space of silent rumination and jerking of peanut shells upon the
track, the group broke up its session, and adjourned by tacit
understanding till the next train was due.
Arthur Steele was half an hour in getting to his father's house, because
everybody he met on the street insisted on shaking hands with him.
Everybody in Fairfield had known him since he was a boy, and had
seen him grow up, and all were proud of him as a credit to the village
and one of its most successful representatives in the big outside world.
The young man had sense and sentiment enough to feel that the place
he held in the esteem of his native community was a thing to feel more
just pride in than any station he could win in the city, and as he walked
along hand-shaking with old friends on this side and that, it was about
his idea of a triumphal entry.
There was the dear old house, and as he saw it his memory of it started
out vividly in his mind as if to attest how faithfully it had kept each
detail. It never would come out so clearly at times when he was far
away and needed its comfort. He opened the door softly. The
sitting-room was empty, and darkened to keep out the heat and flies.
The latched door stood open, and, hearing voices, he tiptoed across the
floor with a guileful smile and, leaning through the doorway, saw his
mother and sister sitting by the cool, lilac-shaded window, picking over
currants for tea, and talking tranquilly. Being a provident young man,
he paused a minute to let the pretty, peaceful scene impress itself upon
his mind, to be remembered afterward
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