Main Street
itable clank and rattle beneath a prolonged roar. The sharp scent of o
attic floor. The stretch of faded gold stubble broken only
ptibly climbing the giant tableland that slopes in a thous
mber, hot,
wels. Halfway down the car is a semi-partition of carved oak columns, but the aisle is of bare, splintery, grease-blackened wood. There is no porter, no pillows, no provision for beds, but all today and all toni
ait. An early-wrinkled, young-old mother, moving as though her joints were dry, opens a suit-case in which are seen creased blouses, a pair of slippers worn through at the toes, a bottle of patent medicine, a tin cup, a paper-covered book about dreams which the news- butcher has c
A large brick-colored Norwegian takes off his shoes, grunts in relief, an
esses, anxiously lifts her bag, opens it, peers in, closes it, puts it under the seat, and hastily picks it up and opens it and hides it all over again. The bag is full of tre
les, bundles wrapped in newspapers, a sewing bag. The oldest boy takes a mouth-organ out of his coat pocket,
to the water- cooler and back to her seat. The stiff paper envelope which she uses for cup drips in the a
tobacco smoke, and with it a crackle of laughter over the story which the young man in the bright
constantly thi
rnly housekeepers. But one seat looked clean and deceptively cool. In it were an obviously prospe
ll Kennicott and
ional courtship, and they were on their way to Gopher P
fortable interest in them. They distressed her. They were so stolid. She had always maintained that there is no American peasantry, and she sought now to defend her faith by seeing imagination and enterprise in the young
happen if they understood scientific agriculture?
d in her. Will had been lordly - stalwart, jolly, impressively competent in making camp, tender and understanding
ts of the practise to which he was returning. "Th
, that isn't what I mean. They
ea that because a man's pants aren't pressed, he's a
seems so hard for them - these lo
oser touch with the town. Takes time, you know, to change a wilderness like this was fifty years ago. But already, why, they can hop in
t the farmers run to for relief from their blea
same line. He grumbled, "Why, what's the matter with 'em? Good hustling burgs. It would
ey're s
comfy like Gopher Prai
an them? Hundreds of factories trying to make attractive motor cars, but these towns - l
e mouse. For the first time she tolerated him rather than encouraged him. She was staring out at
waddled out. The station agent hoisted a dead calf aboard the baggage-car. There were no other visible activities
ssorted, as temporary-looking, as a mining-camp street in the motion-pictures. The railroad station was a one-room frame box, a mirey cattle- pen on one side and a crimson wheat-elevator on the other. The elevator, with its cup
eeve. "You wouldn't call this
the store. Rauskukle, his name is. He owns a lot of mortgages, and he gambles in farm-lands. Good nut on him, that fellow. Why, they say he's worth three or four hundred thousand dollars! G
thousand went back into the town, where it belongs, they could burn up these shacks, and bu
emselves! He's a dumm old Dutchman, and probably the priest can twist him around
beauty. The town erects him,
fter this long trip. You'll feel better when you get home and have a good
arm, looked at
tt turned her face from the window, rested her head on his shoulder. She was coaxed from her unhappy mood. But she came out of it unwillingly,
ts and automatic pianos and co-operative leagues. And for all its fat richness, theirs is a pioneer land. What is its future? she wondered. A future of cities and factory smut where now are loping empty fields? Homes universal and secure? Or placid chateaux ringed with sullen huts? Youth free to find knowledge and laughter? Willingness to sift the sanctified lies? Or creamy- skinned fat women, smeare
d ached wit
began to frighten her. It spread out so; it went on so uncontrollably; she could never know it. Kennicott was closeted in his detective story.
ff from the plains-shorn wheat-lands of autumn, a hundred acres to a field, prickly and gray near-by but in the blurred distance like tawny velvet stretched over dipping hillocks. The long rows of wheat- sh
short wild grass; and every mile or two was a chain of coba
n stubble; shadows from immense cumulus clouds were forever sliding across low mounds; and t
ntry; a land to be b
kling, "D' you realize the town aft
I
tranger! She turned in her seat, stared at him. Who was he? Why was he sitting with her? He wasn't of her kind! His neck was heavy; his speech was heavy; he was twelve or thirteen years older than she;
ted upon liking his town. It wouldn't be like these barren settlements. It couldn't be! Why, it had three thousand population. That was a great many people. The
entrance to all her future life. But when she discovered them, to the left of
he town as a whole. With a passionate jerk she pushed up the window, looked out, the
houses broke the plains scarcely more than would a hazel thicket. The fields swept up to it, past it. It was unprotected and unprotecting; there was no dignity in it nor any hope of
flat as their fields. She couldn't stay here. She
uched by his excitement as he sent his magazine skittering along the aisle,
he outskirts were dusky old red mansions with wooden frills, or gaunt frame shelt
opping at a squat red frame station, the platform crowded with unshaven farmers and with loafers - unadventurous people with dead eyes. She was here. She could no
p it! Stop being a whining baby!" She stood up quickl
herself like the place. And she wa
of disembarking passengers. She reminded herself that she was actually at the dramatic moment of the bride's home-c
peer through the wind
and Dave Dyer and Jack Elder, and, yes sir, Harry Haydock and Juanita, and a wh
vestibule she waved to them, but she clung a second to the sleeve of the brakeman who helped her down before she had the courage to dive into the cataract of hand-shaking people
heir smiles, their shouts, their affectionate eyes ov
Kennicott, "I brought my machi
ump in. That big Paige over there. Some boat, too, believe me!
the wheel, was the essence of decent self-satisfaction; a baldish, largish, level-eyed man, rugged of neck but sleek
ight and get 'em darn quick! I bet she could tel
nty that he was a person whom she could trust she confes
smiled lavishly, and wished that she called people by their given names more easily. "The fat cranky lady back there beside you, who is pretending that she can't hear me giving her away, is Mrs. Sam'l Clark; and this hungry-looking squirt up here beside me is Dave Dyer, who keeps his drug store running by not filling y
the heavy traffic of three Fords a
she saw; gave way in: "Why do these stories lie so? They always make the bride's home-coming a bower of roses. Complete trust
to think Gopher Prairie is a paradise, after St. Paul. I don't expect you to be crazy about it
ve you for understanding. I'm just - I'm beastly over-sensitive. Too man
ll the time
inst her cheek, snuggled near him
ed an old house, "but nice and roomy, and well-heated, best furnace I could find o
make her own shrine. She held his hand tightly and stared ahead as the car swung round
x-elder seeds and snags of wool from the cotton- woods. A screened porch with pillars of thin painted pine surmounted by scrolls and brackets and bumps of jigsawed wood. No shrubbery t
eft it as is, so you could make any changes you felt were necessary." Kenn
the choice of a maid to her, and there was no one in the house. She jiggled while he turned the key, and scampered in. . . . It w
ness, but she insisted, "I'll make it all jolly." As she followed Kennicott and the bags
my ow
at I ple
at I ple
e and my mat
o
at mattered so long as she could slip her hands beneath his coat, run her fingers over the warm smoothness of the satin back of his waistcoa
," she whispered