The Rise Of Silas Lapham By William Dean Howells Part 1, William Dean Howells [the red fox clan txt] 📗

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How They Could Endure It.  Of Course They Are Fated to Be

Overwhelmed by Oblivion At Last,  Poor Fellows; But To See

It Weltering all Round Them While They Are In the Very Act

Of Achieving immortality Must Be Tremendously Discouraging.

I Don'T Suppose That We Who Have The Habit Of Reading,

And At Least A Nodding acquaintance With Literature,

Can Imagine The Bestial Darkness Of The Great Mass Of

People--Even People Whose Houses Are Rich And Whose Linen

Is Purple And Fine.  But Occasionally We Get Glimpses Of It.

I Suppose You Found The Latest Publications Lying all About

In Lapham Cottage When You Were Down There?"

 

Young Corey Laughed.  "It Wasn'T Exactly Cumbered with Them."

 

"No?"

 

"To Tell The Truth,  I Don'T Suppose They Ever Buy Books.

The Young Ladies Get Novels That They Hear Talked of Out

Of The Circulating library."

 

"Had They Knowledge Enough To Be Ashamed of Their Ignorance?"

 

"Yes,  In certain Ways--To A Certain Degree."

 

"It'S A Curious Thing,  This Thing we Call Civilisation,"

Said The Elder Musingly.  "We Think It Is An Affair Of Epochs

And Of Nations.  It'S Really An Affair Of Individuals.

One Brother Will Be Civilised and The Other A Barbarian.

I'Ve Occasionally Met Young Girls Who Were So Brutally,

Insolently,  Wilfully Indifferent To The Arts Which Make

Civilisation That They Ought To Have Been Clothed in the

Skins Of Wild Beasts And Gone About Barefoot With Clubs

Over Their Shoulders.  Yet They Were Of Polite Origin,

And Their Parents Were At Least Respectful Of The Things

That These Young Animals Despised."

 

"I Don'T Think That Is Exactly The Case With The

Lapham Family," Said The Son,  Smiling.  "The Father

And Mother Rather Apologised about Not Getting

Time To Read,  And The Young Ladies By No Means Scorned it."

 

"They Are Quite Advanced!"

 

"They Are Going to Have A Library In their Beacon

Street House."

 

"Oh,  Poor Things! How Are They Ever Going to Get

The Books Together?"

 

"Well,  Sir," Said The Son,  Colouring a Little,  "I Have

Been Indirectly Applied to For Help."

 

"You,  Tom!" His Father Dropped back In his Chair And Laughed.

 

"I Recommended the Standard Authors," Said The Son.

 

"Oh,  I Never Supposed your Prudence Would Be At Fault,  Tom!"

 

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"But Seriously," Said The Young Man,  Generously Smiling

In Sympathy With His Father'S Enjoyment,  "They'Re Not

Unintelligent People.  They Are Very Quick,  And They

Are Shrewd And Sensible."

 

"I Have No Doubt That Some Of The Sioux Are So.  But That

Is Not Saying that They Are Civilised.  All Civilisation

Comes Through Literature Now,  Especially In our Country.

A Greek Got His Civilisation By Talking and Looking,

And In some Measure A Parisian May Still Do It.  But We,

Who Live Remote From History And Monuments,  We Must Read Or We

Must Barbarise.  Once We Were Softened,  If Not Polished,

By Religion; But I Suspect That The Pulpit Counts For Much

Less Now In civilising."

 

"They'Re Enormous Devourers Of Newspapers,  And Theatre-Goers;

And They Go A Great Deal To Lectures.  The Colonel

Prefers Them With The Stereopticon."

 

"They Might Get A Something in that Way," Said The Elder

Thoughtfully.  "Yes,  I Suppose One Must Take Those Things

Into Account--Especially The Newspapers And The Lectures.

I Doubt If The Theatre Is A Factor In civilisation Among Us.

I Dare Say It Doesn'T Deprave A Great Deal,  But From What I'Ve

Seen Of It I Should Say That It Was Intellectually Degrading.

Perhaps They Might Get Some Sort Of Lift From It;

I Don'T Know.  Tom!" He Added,  After A Moment'S Reflection.

"I Really Think I Ought To See This Patron Of Yours.

Don'T You Think It Would Be Rather Decent In me To Make

His Acquaintance?"

 

"Well,  If You Have The Fancy,  Sir," Said The Young Man.

"But There'S No Sort Of Obligation.  Colonel Lapham Would

Be The Last Man In the World To Want To Give Our Relation

Any Sort Of Social Character.  The Meeting will Come About

In The Natural Course Of Things."

 

"Ah,  I Didn'T Intend To Propose Anything immediate,"

Said The Father.  "One Can'T Do Anything in the Summer,

And I Should Prefer Your Mother'S Superintendence.

Still,  I Can'T Rid Myself Of The Idea Of A Dinner.

It Appears To Me That There Ought To Be A Dinner."

 

"Oh,  Pray Don'T Feel That There'S Any Necessity."

 

"Well," Said The Elder,  With Easy Resignation,  "There'S At

Least No Hurry."

 

 

 

 

 

"There Is One Thing i Don'T Like," Said Lapham,

In The Course Of One Of Those Talks Which Came Up

Between His Wife And Himself Concerning corey,  "Or At

Least I Don'T Understand It; And That'S The Way His

Father Behaves.  I Don'T Want To Force Myself On Any Man;

But It Seems To Me Pretty Queer The Way He Holds Off. 

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I Should Think He Would Take Enough Interest In his

Son To Want To Know Something about His Business.

What Is He Afraid Of?" Demanded lapham Angrily.  "Does He

Think I'M Going to Jump At A Chance To Get In with Him,

If He Gives Me One? He'S Mightily Mistaken If He Does.

I Don'T Want To Know Him."

 

"Silas," Said His Wife,  Making a Wife'S Free Version

Of Her Husband'S Words,  And Replying to Their Spirit

Rather Than Their Letter,  "I Hope You Never Said A Word

To Mr. Corey To Let Him Know The Way You Feel."

 

"I Never Mentioned his Father To Him!" Roared the Colonel.

"That'S The Way I Feel About It!"

 

"Because It Would Spoil Everything.  I Wouldn'T Have

Them Think We Cared the Least Thing in the World For

Their Acquaintance.  We Shouldn'T Be A Bit Better Off.

We Don'T Know The Same People They Do,  And We Don'T Care

For The Same Kind Of Things."

 

Lapham Was Breathless With Resentment Of His Wife'S Implication.

"Don'T I Tell You," He Gasped,  "That I Don'T Want To Know

Them? Who Began It? They'Re Friends Of Yours If They'Re Anybody'S."

 

"They'Re Distant Acquaintances Of Mine," Returned mrs. Lapham

Quietly; "And This Young Corey Is A Clerk Of Yours.  And I

Want We Should Hold Ourselves So That When They Get Ready

To Make The Advances We Can Meet Them Half-Way Or Not,

Just As We Choose."

 

"That'S What Grinds Me," Cried her Husband.

"Why Should We Wait For Them To Make The Advances? Why

Shouldn'T We Make 'Em? Are They Any Better Than We Are?

My Note Of Hand Would Be Worth Ten Times What Bromfield

Corey'S Is On The Street To-Day. And I Made My Money.

I Haven'T Loafed my Life Away."

 

"Oh,  It Isn'T What You'Ve Got,  And It Isn'T What You'Ve

Done Exactly.  It'S What You Are."

 

"Well,  Then,  What'S The Difference?"

 

"None That Really Amounts To Anything,  Or That Need give

You Any Trouble,  If You Don'T Think Of It.  But He'S

Been All His Life In society,  And He Knows Just What To

Say And What To Do,  And He Can Talk About The Things

That Society People Like To Talk About,  And You--Can'T."

 

Lapham Gave A Furious Snort.  "And Does That Make Him

Any Better?"

 

"No. But It Puts Him Where He Can Make The Advances

Without Demeaning himself,  And It Puts You Where You

Can'T. Now,  Look Here,  Silas Lapham! You Understand This

Thing as Well As I Do.  You Know That I Appreciate You,

And That I'D Sooner Die Than Have You Humble Yourself

To A Living soul.  But I'M Not Going to Have You Coming

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To Me,  And Pretending that You Can Meet Bromfield Corey

As An Equal On His Own Ground.  You Can'T. He'S Got

A Better Education Than You,  And If He Hasn'T Got More

Brains Than You,  He'S Got Different.  And He And His Wife,

And Their Fathers And Grandfathers Before 'Em,  Have Always

Had A High Position,  And You Can'T Help It.  If You Want

To Know Them,  You'Ve Got To Let Them Make The Advances.

If You Don'T,  All Well And Good."

 

"I Guess," Said The Chafed and Vanquished colonel,

After A Moment For Swallowing the Pill,  "That They'D

Have Been In a Pretty Fix If You'D Waited to Let Them

Make The Advances Last Summer."

 

"That Was A Different Thing altogether.  I Didn'T

Know Who They Were,  Or May Be I Should Have Waited.

But All I Say Now Is That If You'Ve Got Young Corey

Into Business With You,  In hopes Of Our Getting into

Society With His Father,  You Better Ship Him At Once.

For I Ain'T Going to Have It On That Basis."

 

"Who Wants To Have It On That Basis?" Retorted her Husband.

 

"Nobody,  If You Don'T," Said Mrs. Lapham Tranquilly.

 

Irene Had Come Home With The Shaving in her Belt,

Unnoticed by Her Father,  And Unquestioned by Her Mother.

But Her Sister Saw It At Once,  And Asked her What She Was

Doing with It.

 

"Oh,  Nothing," Said Irene,  With A Joyful Smile

Of Self-Betrayal,  Taking the Shaving carefully Out,

And Laying it Among The Laces And Ribbons In her Drawer.

 

"Hadn'T You Better Put It In water,  'Rene? It'Ll Be All

Wilted by Morning," Said Pen.

 

"You Mean Thing!" Cried the Happy Girl.  "It Isn'T A Flower!"

 

"Oh,  I Thought It Was A Whole Bouquet.  Who Gave It To You?"

 

"I Shan'T Tell You," Said Irene Saucily.

 

"Oh,  Well,  Never Mind.  Did You Know Mr. Corey Had Been

Down Here This Afternoon,  Walking on The Beach With Me?"

 

"He Wasn'T--He Wasn'T At All! He Was At The House With Me.

There! I'Ve Caught You Fairly."

 

"Is That So?" Drawled penelope.  "Then I Never Could

Guess Who Gave You That Precious Shaving."

 

"No,  You Couldn'T!" Said Irene,  Flushing beautifully.

"And You May Guess,  And You May Guess,  And You May Guess!"

With Her Lovely Eyes She Coaxed her Sister To Keep On

Teasing her,  And Penelope Continued the Comedy With The

Patience That Women Have For Such Things.