The Man from Home, Harry Leon Wilson [good books for 8th graders TXT] 📗
- Author: Harry Leon Wilson
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[He enters from the hotel. He is a portly man of forty-five, but rather soldierly than fat. His hair, pompadour, is reddish blond, beginning to turn gray, like his mustache and large full beard; the latter somewhat "Henry IV." and slightly forked at bottom. His dress produces the effect rather of carelessness than of extreme fashion. He wears a travelling-suit of gray, neat enough but not freshly pressed, the trousers showing no crease, the coat cut in "walking-coat style," with big, slanting pockets, in which he carries his gloves, handkerchief, matches, [pg 046] and a silver cigarette-case full of Russian cigarettes. On his head is a tan-colored automobile cap with buttoned flaps. He is followed by RIBIERE, who, anxious and perturbed, wishes to call his attention to the item in the Neapolitan morning paper.]
[waving both RIBIERE and the paper aside, in high good-humor]
Las' mich, las' mich! Geh'n sie weg!
[RIBIERE bows submissively, though with a gesture of protest, and exit into the hotel. The group about the tea-table watch VASILI with hostility.]
What a dreadful person!
[VASILI crosses to his seat at the breakfast-table in front of MARIANO and MICHELE, who bows profoundly as he passes.]
[lifting his hand in curt, semi-military salute, to acknowledge the waiters' bows]
See to my American friend.
[MICHELE immediately hastens into the hotel. VASILI sits, and MARIANO serves him.][pg 047]
[to LADY CREECH, in her ear]
Quite right; but take care, he speaks English.
[glaring at VASILI]
Many thoroughly objectionable persons do!
[apparently oblivious to her remark, to MARIANO]
My American friend wishes his own national dish.
[deferentially, and serving VASILI to caviar]
Yes, Herr von Gröllerhagen, he will have the eggs on but one of both sides and the hams fried. So he go to cook it himself.
[Loud shouts and wild laughter from the street. HORACE, ALMERIC, and LADY CREECH set their papers down in their laps and turn toward the door.]
Ha! He return from the kitchen with those national dish.
[glancing in the doorway]
How horrid!
[MICHELE backs out on the stoop from the doorway laughing, carrying a platter of ham and eggs.]
He have gone to wash himself at the street fountain.
[Tumult outside reaches its height, the shouts of "Yanka Dooda!" predominating.][pg 048]
[laughing, clapping his hands]
Bravo! Bravo!
Horrible!
[PIKE enters from the hotel. He is a youthful-looking American of about thirty-five, good-natured, shrewd, humorous, and kindly. His voice has the homely quality of the Central States, clear, quiet, and strong, with a very slight drawl at times when the situation strikes him as humorous, often exhibiting an apologetic character. He does not speak a dialect. His English is the United States language as spoken by the average citizen to be met on a daycoach anywhere in the Central States. He is clean-shaven, and his hair, which shows a slight tendency to gray, is neatly parted on the left side. His light straw hat is edged with a strip of ribbon. The hat, like the rest of his apparel, is neither new nor old. His shirt, "lay-down" collar, and cuffs are of white, well-laundered linen. He wears a [pg 049] loosely knotted tie. A linen motor-duster extends to his knees. His waistcoat is of a gray mixture, neither dark nor light. His trousers are of the same material and not fashionably cut, yet they fit him well and are neither baggy at the knees nor "high-water." His shoes are plain black Congress gaiters and show a "good shine." In brief, he is just the average well-to-do but untravelled citizen that you might meet on an accommodation train between Logansport and Kokomo, Indiana. As he enters he is wiping his face, after his ablutions, with a large towel, his hat pushed far back on his head. The sleeves of his duster are turned back, and his detachable cuffs are in his pocket. He comes through the doors rubbing his face with the towel, but, pausing for a moment on the stoop, drops the towel from his face to dry his hands. All except VASILI and the waiters stare at him with frowns of annoyance.][pg 050]
[beamingly unconscious of this, surprised, and in a tone of cheerful apology, believing all the world to be as good-natured and sensible as Kokomo would be under the circumstances]
Law! I didn't know there was folks here. I reckon you'll have to excuse me.
[As he speaks he dries his hands quickly.]
Here, son!
[He hands the towel to MICHELE. PIKE rapidly descends the steps, goes to the breakfast-table, joining VASILI and taking the seat opposite him.]
[gayly]
You're a true patriot, my friend. You allow no profane hand to cook your national dish. I trust you will be as successful with that wicked motor of mine.
[chuckling]
Lord bless your soul, I've put a self-binder together after a pony-engine had butted it half-way through a brick deepoe!
[Tucks his napkin in collar of his waistcoat and applies himself to the meal.]
[HORACE and HAWCASTLE read their papers, now and then casting glances of great annoyance at PIKE.][pg 051]
[LADY CREECH lets her periodical rest in her lap, and without any abating or concealment, fixes PIKE with a basilisk glare which continues. He is unconscious of all this, his back being three-quarters to their group.]
[no pause]
You have studied mechanics at the University?
[smiling]
University? Law, no! On the old man's farm.
[VASILI nods gravely.]
[blandly, to HORACE]
Without any disrespect to you, my dear fellow, what terrific bounders most of your fellow-countrymen are!
[greatly irritated]
Do you wonder sis and I have emancipated ourselves?
Not at all, my dear lad.
[to PIKE]
Can I persuade you to accept a little of one of my own national dishes—caviar?
Caviar? I've heard of it. I thought it was Rooshian.
[disturbed, but instantly recovering, himself]
It is German, also. Will you not?
[He motions MARIANO to serve PIKE. MARIANO places a spoonful of caviar on a silver dish at PIKE'S right.][pg 052]
I expect I'd never get to the legislature again if the boys heard about it. Still, I reckon I'm far enough from home to take a few risks.
[He loads a fork with caviar, and with a smile places it in his mouth. The smile slowly fades, his face becomes thoughtful, then grave; he slowly sets the fork upon his plate, his eyes turn toward VASILI with a look both puzzled and plaintive, his mouth firmly closed, his jaw moving slightly.]
I fear you do not like it. A few swallows of vodka will take away the taste.
[Gives him a glass, which PIKE accepts, drinking a mouthful in haste, VASILI watching him, sincerely concerned and troubled. PIKE swallows the vodka, quietly sets the glass down on the table, his eyelids begin to flutter, he bends a look of suffering and distrust upon VASILI, slowly rises and closes his eyes, then slowly sits and opens them. Gradually a faint, distrustful smile appears on his face.][pg 053]
[in the voice of a convalescent]
I never had any business to leave Indiana!
I am sorry, my friend.
[PIKE takes another large forkful of caviar.]
[observing this]
But I thought you did not like the caviar?
It's to take away the taste of the vodka.
[laughing]
I lift my hat to you.
You never worked on a farm in your own country, Doc?
That has been denied me.
I expect so. Talk about things to drink! Harvest-time, and the women folks coming out from the house with a two-gallon jug of ice-cold buttermilk!
[Sets down the glass and whistles softly with delight.]
[HORACE shows increasing signs of annoyance.]
You still enjoy those delights?
Not since I moved up to our county-seat ten years ago and began to practice law. Things don't taste the same in the city.
You do not like your city?
[not with braggadocio, but earnestly, almost [pg 054] pathetically]
Like it? Well, sir, for public buildings and architecture, I wouldn't trade our State insane asylum for the worst-ruined ruin in Europe—not for hygiene and real comfort.
And your people?
The best on earth. Out my way folks are neighbors.
[HORACE snaps his paper sharply.]
But you have no leisure class.
[VASILI is looking keenly at HAWCASTLE and HORACE as he speaks.]
Got a pretty good-sized colored population.
I mean no aristocracy—no great old families such as we have, that go back and back to the Middle Ages.
[genially]
Well, I expect if they go back that far they might just as well set down and stay there. No, sir, the poor in my country don't have to pay taxes for a lot of useless kings and earls and first grooms of the bedchamber and second ladies in waiting, and I don't know what all. If anybody wants our money for nothin' he has to show energy enough to steal it. I wonder a man like you doesn't emigrate.
Bravo!
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