第1章

HANDS，concerningWingBiddlebaumPAPERPILLS，concerningDoctorReefyMOTHER，concerningElizabethWillardTHEPHILOSOPHER，concerningDoctorParcivalNOBODYKNOWS，concerningLouiseTrunnionGODLINESS，aTaleinFourPartsI，concerningJesseBentleyII，alsoconcerningJesseBentleyIIISurrender，concerningLouiseBentleyIVTerror，concerningDavidHardyAMANOFIDEAS，concerningJoeWellingADVENTURE，concerningAliceHindmanRESPECTABILITY，concerningWashWilliamsTHETHINKER，concerningSethRichmondTANDY，concerningTandyHardTHESTRENGTHOFGOD，concerningtheReverendCurtisHartmanTHETEACHER，concerningKateSwiftLONELINESS，concerningEnochRobinson。

ANAWAKENING，concerningBelleCarpenter"QUEER，"concerningElmerCowleyTHEUNTOLDLIE，concerningRayPearsonDRINK，concerningTomFosterDEATH，concerningDoctorReefyandElizabethWillardSOPHISTICATION，concerningHelenWhiteDEPARTURE，concerningGeorgeWillardTothememoryofmymother，EMMASMITHANDERSON，whosekeenobservationsonthelifeaboutherfirstawokeinmethehungertoseebeneaththesurfaceoflives，thisbookisdedicated。

THEWRITER，anoldmanwithawhitemustache，hadsomedifficultyingettingintobed。Thewindowsofthehouseinwhichhelivedwerehighandhewantedtolookatthetreeswhenheawokeinthemorning。Acarpentercametofixthebedsothatitwouldbeonalevelwiththewindow。

Quiteafusswasmadeaboutthematter。Thecar-

penter，whohadbeenasoldierintheCivilWar，cameintothewriter"sroomandsatdowntotalkofbuildingaplatformforthepurposeofraisingthebed。Thewriterhadcigarslyingaboutandthecar-

pentersmoked。

Foratimethetwomentalkedoftheraisingofthebedandthentheytalkedofotherthings。Thesoldiergotonthesubjectofthewar。Thewriter，infact，ledhimtothatsubject。ThecarpenterhadoncebeenaprisonerinAndersonvilleprisonandhadlostabrother。Thebrotherhaddiedofstarvation，andwheneverthecarpentergotuponthatsubjecthecried。He，liketheoldwriter，hadawhitemustache，andwhenhecriedhepuckereduphislipsandthemustachebobbedupanddown。Theweepingoldmanwiththecigarinhismouthwasludicrous。Theplanthewriterhadfortheraisingofhisbedwasforgottenandlaterthecarpenterdiditinhisownwayandthewriter，whowaspastsixty，hadtohelphimselfwithachairwhenhewenttobedatnight。

Inhisbedthewriterrolledoveronhissideandlayquitestill。Foryearshehadbeenbesetwithno-

tionsconcerninghisheart。Hewasahardsmokerandhisheartfluttered。Theideahadgotintohismindthathewouldsometimedieunexpectedlyandalwayswhenhegotintobedhethoughtofthat。Itdidnotalarmhim。Theeffectinfactwasquiteaspecialthingandnoteasilyexplained。Itmadehimmorealive，thereinbed，thanatanyothertime。

Perfectlystillhelayandhisbodywasoldandnotofmuchuseanymore，butsomethinginsidehimwasaltogetheryoung。Hewaslikeapregnantwoman，onlythatthethinginsidehimwasnotababybutayouth。No，itwasn"tayouth，itwasawoman，young，andwearingacoatofmaillikeaknight。Itisabsurd，yousee，totrytotellwhatwasinsidetheoldwriterashelayonhishighbedandlistenedtotheflutteringofhisheart。Thethingtogetatiswhatthewriter，ortheyoungthingwithinthewriter，wasthinkingabout。

Theoldwriter，likeallofthepeopleintheworld，hadgot，duringhislongfife，agreatmanynotionsinhishead。Hehadoncebeenquitehandsomeandanumberofwomenhadbeeninlovewithhim。

Andthen，ofcourse，hehadknownpeople，manypeople，knowntheminapeculiarlyintimatewaythatwasdifferentfromthewayinwhichyouandI

knowpeople。Atleastthatiswhatthewriterthoughtandthethoughtpleasedhim。Whyquarrelwithanoldmanconcerninghisthoughts？

Inthebedthewriterhadadreamthatwasnotadream。Ashegrewsomewhatsleepybutwasstillconscious，figuresbegantoappearbeforehiseyes。

Heimaginedtheyoungindescribablethingwithinhimselfwasdrivingalongprocessionoffiguresbe-

forehiseyes。

Youseetheinterestinallthisliesinthefiguresthatwentbeforetheeyesofthewriter。Theywereallgrotesques。Allofthemenandwomenthewriterhadeverknownhadbecomegrotesques。

Thegrotesqueswerenotallhorrible。Somewereamusing，somealmostbeautiful，andone，awomanalldrawnoutofshape，hurttheoldmanbyhergrotesqueness。Whenshepassedhemadeanoiselikeasmalldogwhimpering。Hadyoucomeintotheroomyoumighthavesupposedtheoldmanhadunpleasantdreamsorperhapsindigestion。

Foranhourtheprocessionofgrotesquespassedbeforetheeyesoftheoldman，andthen，althoughitwasapainfulthingtodo，hecreptoutofbedandbegantowrite。Someoneofthegrotesqueshadmadeadeepimpressiononhismindandhewantedtodescribeit。

Athisdeskthewriterworkedforanhour。Intheendhewroteabookwhichhecalled"TheBookoftheGrotesque。"Itwasneverpublished，butIsawitonceanditmadeanindelibleimpressiononmymind。Thebookhadonecentralthoughtthatisverystrangeandhasalwaysremainedwithme。Byre-

memberingitIhavebeenabletounderstandmanypeopleandthingsthatIwasneverabletounder-

standbefore。Thethoughtwasinvolvedbutasimplestatementofitwouldbesomethinglikethis:

Thatinthebeginningwhentheworldwasyoungtherewereagreatmanythoughtsbutnosuchthingasatruth。Manmadethetruthshimselfandeachtruthwasacompositeofagreatmanyvaguethoughts。Allaboutintheworldwerethetruthsandtheywereallbeautiful。

Theoldmanhadlistedhundredsofthetruthsinhisbook。Iwillnottrytotellyouofallofthem。

Therewasthetruthofvirginityandthetruthofpassion，thetruthofwealthandofpoverty，ofthriftandofprofligacy，ofcarelessnessandabandon。

Hundredsandhundredswerethetruthsandtheywereallbeautiful。

Andthenthepeoplecamealong。Eachasheap-

pearedsnatcheduponeofthetruthsandsomewhowerequitestrongsnatchedupadozenofthem。

Itwasthetruthsthatmadethepeoplegrotesques。

Theoldmanhadquiteanelaboratetheoryconcern-

ingthematter。Itwashisnotionthatthemomentoneofthepeopletookoneofthetruthstohimself，calledithistruth，andtriedtolivehislifebyit，hebecameagrotesqueandthetruthheembracedbecameafalsehood。

Youcanseeforyourselfhowtheoldman，whohadspentallofhislifewritingandwasfilledwithwords，wouldwritehundredsofpagesconcerningthismatter。Thesubjectwouldbecomesobiginhismindthathehimselfwouldbeindangerofbecom-

ingagrotesque。Hedidn"t，Isuppose，forthesamereasonthatheneverpublishedthebook。Itwastheyoungthinginsidehimthatsavedtheoldman。

Concerningtheoldcarpenterwhofixedthebedforthewriter，Ionlymentionedhimbecausehe，THEBOOKOFTHEGROTESQUE7

likemanyofwhatarecalledverycommonpeople，becamethenearestthingtowhatisunderstandableandlovableofallthegrotesquesinthewriter"sbook。

HANDS

UPONTHEHALFdecayedverandaofasmallframehousethatstoodneartheedgeofaravinenearthetownofWinesburg，Ohio，afatlittleoldmanwalkednervouslyupanddown。Acrossalongfieldthathadbeenseededforcloverbutthathadproducedonlyadensecropofyellowmustardweeds，hecouldseethepublichighwayalongwhichwentawagonfilledwithberrypickersreturningfromthefields。Theberrypickers，youthsandmaidens，laughedandshoutedboisterously。Aboycladinablueshirtleapedfromthewagonandattemptedtodragafterhimoneofthemaidens，whoscreamedandprotestedshrilly。Thefeetoftheboyintheroadkickedupacloudofdustthatfloatedacrossthefaceofthedepartingsun。Overthelongfieldcameathingirlishvoice。"Oh，youWingBiddlebaum，combyourhair，it"sfallingintoyoureyes，"commandedthevoicetotheman，whowasbaldandwhosener-

vouslittlehandsfiddledaboutthebarewhitefore-

headasthougharrangingamassoftangledlocks。

WingBiddlebaum，foreverfrightenedandbesetbyaghostlybandofdoubts，didnotthinkofhimselfasinanywayapartofthelifeofthetownwherehehadlivedfortwentyyears。AmongallthepeopleofWinesburgbutonehadcomeclosetohim。WithGeorgeWillard，sonofTomWillard，theproprietoroftheNewWillardHouse，hehadformedsome-

thinglikeafriendship。GeorgeWillardwasthere-

porterontheWinesburgEagleandsometimesintheeveningshewalkedoutalongthehighwaytoWingBiddlebaum"shouse。Nowastheoldmanwalkedupanddownontheveranda，hishandsmovingnervouslyabout，hewashopingthatGeorgeWillardwouldcomeandspendtheeveningwithhim。Afterthewagoncontainingtheberrypickershadpassed，hewentacrossthefieldthroughthetallmustardweedsandclimbingarailfencepeeredanxiouslyalongtheroadtothetown。Foramomenthestoodthus，rubbinghishandstogetherandlookingupanddowntheroad，andthen，fearovercominghim，ranbacktowalkagainupontheporchonhisownhouse。

InthepresenceofGeorgeWillard，WingBid-

dlebaum，whofortwentyyearshadbeenthetownmystery，lostsomethingofhistimidity，andhisshadowypersonality，submergedinaseaofdoubts，cameforthtolookattheworld。Withtheyoungreporterathisside，heventuredinthelightofdayintoMainStreetorstrodeupanddownontherick-

etyfrontporchofhisownhouse，talkingexcitedly。

Thevoicethathadbeenlowandtremblingbecameshrillandloud。Thebentfigurestraightened。Withakindofwriggle，likeafishreturnedtothebrookbythefisherman，Biddlebaumthesilentbegantotalk，strivingtoputintowordstheideasthathadbeenaccumulatedbyhismindduringlongyearsofsilence。

WingBiddlebaumtalkedmuchwithhishands。

Theslenderexpressivefingers，foreveractive，for-

everstrivingtoconcealthemselvesinhispocketsorbehindhisback，cameforthandbecamethepistonrodsofhismachineryofexpression。

ThestoryofWingBiddlebaumisastoryofhands。

Theirrestlessactivity，likeuntothebeatingofthewingsofanimprisonedbird，hadgivenhimhisname。Someobscurepoetofthetownhadthoughtofit。Thehandsalarmedtheirowner。Hewantedtokeepthemhiddenawayandlookedwithamaze-

mentatthequietinexpressivehandsofothermenwhoworkedbesidehiminthefields，orpassed，drivingsleepyteamsoncountryroads。

WhenhetalkedtoGeorgeWillard，WingBid-

dlebaumclosedhisfistsandbeatwiththemuponatableoronthewallsofhishouse。Theactionmadehimmorecomfortable。Ifthedesiretotalkcametohimwhenthetwowerewalkinginthefields，hesoughtoutastumporthetopboardofafenceandwithhishandspoundingbusilytalkedwithre-

newedease。

ThestoryofWingBiddlebaum"shandsisworthabookinitself。Sympatheticallysetforthitwouldtapmanystrange，beautifulqualitiesinobscuremen。Itisajobforapoet。InWinesburgthehandshadattractedattentionmerelybecauseoftheiractivity。

WiththemWingBiddlebaumhadpickedashighasahundredandfortyquartsofstrawberriesinaday。

Theybecamehisdistinguishingfeature，thesourceofhisfame。Alsotheymademoregrotesqueanal-

readygrotesqueandelusiveindividuality。Wines-

burgwasproudofthehandsofWingBiddlebauminthesamespiritinwhichitwasproudofBankerWhite"snewstonehouseandWesleyMoyer"sbaystallion，TonyTip，thathadwonthetwo-fifteentrotatthefallracesinCleveland。

AsforGeorgeWillard，hehadmanytimeswantedtoaskaboutthehands。Attimesanalmostover-

whelmingcuriosityhadtakenholdofhim。HefeltthattheremustbeareasonfortheirstrangeactivityandtheirinclinationtokeephiddenawayandonlyagrowingrespectforWingBiddlebaumkepthimfromblurtingoutthequestionsthatwereofteninhismind。

Oncehehadbeenonthepointofasking。Thetwowerewalkinginthefieldsonasummerafternoonandhadstoppedtosituponagrassybank。Allafter-

noonWingBiddlebaumhadtalkedasoneinspired。

ByafencehehadstoppedandbeatinglikeagiantwoodpeckeruponthetopboardhadshoutedatGeorgeWillard，condemninghistendencytobetoomuchinfluencedbythepeopleabouthim，"Youaredestroyingyourself，"hecried。"Youhavetheincli-

nationtobealoneandtodreamandyouareafraidofdreams。Youwanttobelikeothersintownhere。

Youhearthemtalkandyoutrytoimitatethem。"

OnthegrassybankWingBiddlebaumhadtriedagaintodrivehispointhome。Hisvoicebecamesoftandreminiscent，andwithasighofcontentmenthelaunchedintoalongramblingtalk，speakingasonelostinadream。

OutofthedreamWingBiddlebaummadeapic-

tureforGeorgeWillard。Inthepicturemenlivedagaininakindofpastoralgoldenage。Acrossagreenopencountrycameclean-limbedyoungmen，someafoot，somemounteduponhorses。Incrowdstheyoungmencametogatheraboutthefeetofanoldmanwhosatbeneathatreeinatinygardenandwhotalkedtothem。

WingBiddlebaumbecamewhollyinspired。Foronceheforgotthehands。SlowlytheystoleforthandlayuponGeorgeWillard"sshoulders。Some-

thingnewandboldcameintothevoicethattalked。

"Youmusttrytoforgetallyouhavelearned，"saidtheoldman。"Youmustbegintodream。Fromthistimeonyoumustshutyourearstotheroaringofthevoices。"

Pausinginhisspeech，WingBiddlebaumlookedlongandearnestlyatGeorgeWillard。Hiseyesglowed。Againheraisedthehandstocaresstheboyandthenalookofhorrorsweptoverhisface。

Withaconvulsivemovementofhisbody，WingBiddlebaumsprangtohisfeetandthrusthishandsdeepintohistrouserspockets。Tearscametohiseyes。"Imustbegettingalonghome。Icantalknomorewithyou，"hesaidnervously。

Withoutlookingback，theoldmanhadhurrieddownthehillsideandacrossameadow，leavingGeorgeWillardperplexedandfrighteneduponthegrassyslope。Withashiverofdreadtheboyaroseandwentalongtheroadtowardtown。"I"llnotaskhimabouthishands，"hethought，touchedbythememoryoftheterrorhehadseenintheman"seyes。

"There"ssomethingwrong，butIdon"twanttoknowwhatitis。Hishandshavesomethingtodowithhisfearofmeandofeveryone。"

AndGeorgeWillardwasright。Letuslookbrieflyintothestoryofthehands。Perhapsourtalkingofthemwillarousethepoetwhowilltellthehiddenwonderstoryoftheinfluenceforwhichthehandswerebutflutteringpennantsofpromise。

InhisyouthWingBiddlebaumhadbeenaschoolteacherinatowninPennsylvania。HewasnotthenknownasWingBiddlebaum，butwentbythelesseuphonicnameofAdolphMyers。AsAdolphMyershewasmuchlovedbytheboysofhisschool。

AdolphMyerswasmeantbynaturetobeateacherofyouth。Hewasoneofthoserare，little-

understoodmenwhorulebyapowersogentlethatitpassesasalovableweakness。Intheirfeelingfortheboysundertheirchargesuchmenarenotunlikethefinersortofwomenintheirloveofmen。

Andyetthatisbutcrudelystated。Itneedsthepoetthere。Withtheboysofhisschool，AdolphMyershadwalkedintheeveningorhadsattalkinguntilduskupontheschoolhousestepslostinakindofdream。Hereandtherewenthishands，caressingtheshouldersoftheboys，playingaboutthetousledheads。Ashetalkedhisvoicebecamesoftandmusi-

cal。Therewasacaressinthatalso。Inawaythevoiceandthehands，thestrokingoftheshouldersandthetouchingofthehairwereapartoftheschoolmaster"sefforttocarryadreamintotheyoungminds。Bythecaressthatwasinhisfingersheex-

pressedhimself。Hewasoneofthosemeninwhomtheforcethatcreateslifeisdiffused，notcentralized。

Underthecaressofhishandsdoubtanddisbeliefwentoutofthemindsoftheboysandtheybeganalsotodream。

Andthenthetragedy。Ahalf-wittedboyoftheschoolbecameenamoredoftheyoungmaster。Inhisbedatnightheimaginedunspeakablethingsandinthemorningwentforthtotellhisdreamsasfacts。

Strange，hideousaccusationsfellfromhisloose-

hunglips。ThroughthePennsylvaniatownwentashiver。Hidden，shadowydoubtsthathadbeeninmen"smindsconcerningAdolphMyersweregalva-

nizedintobeliefs。

Thetragedydidnotlinger。Tremblingladswerejerkedoutofbedandquestioned。"Heputhisarmsaboutme，"saidone。"Hisfingerswerealwaysplay-

inginmyhair，"saidanother。

Oneafternoonamanofthetown，HenryBrad-

ford，whokeptasaloon，cametotheschoolhousedoor。CallingAdolphMyersintotheschoolyardhebegantobeathimwithhisfists。Ashishardknuck-

lesbeatdownintothefrightenedfaceoftheschool-

master，hiswrathbecamemoreandmoreterrible。

Screamingwithdismay，thechildrenranhereandtherelikedisturbedinsects。"I"llteachyoutoputyourhandsonmyboy，youbeast，"roaredthesa-

loonkeeper，who，tiredofbeatingthemaster，hadbeguntokickhimabouttheyard。

AdolphMyerswasdrivenfromthePennsylvaniatowninthenight。Withlanternsintheirhandsadozenmencametothedoorofthehousewherehelivedaloneandcommandedthathedressandcomeforth。Itwasrainingandoneofthemenhadaropeinhishands。Theyhadintendedtohangtheschool-

master，butsomethinginhisfigure，sosmall，white，andpitiful，touchedtheirheartsandtheylethimescape。Asheranawayintothedarknesstheyre-

pentedoftheirweaknessandranafterhim，swear-

ingandthrowingsticksandgreatballsofsoftmudatthefigurethatscreamedandranfasterandfasterintothedarkness。

FortwentyyearsAdolphMyershadlivedaloneinWinesburg。Hewasbutfortybutlookedsixty-

five。ThenameofBiddlebaumhegotfromaboxofgoodsseenatafreightstationashehurriedthroughaneasternOhiotown。HehadanauntinWines-

burg，ablack-toothedoldwomanwhoraisedchick-

ens，andwithherheliveduntilshedied。HehadbeenillforayearaftertheexperienceinPennsylva-

nia，andafterhisrecoveryworkedasadaylaborerinthefields，goingtimidlyaboutandstrivingtocon-

cealhishands。Althoughhedidnotunderstandwhathadhappenedhefeltthatthehandsmustbetoblame。Againandagainthefathersoftheboyshadtalkedofthehands。"Keepyourhandstoyour-

self，"thesaloonkeeperhadroared，dancing，withfuryintheschoolhouseyard。

Upontheverandaofhishousebytheravine，WingBiddlebaumcontinuedtowalkupanddownuntilthesunhaddisappearedandtheroadbeyondthefieldwaslostinthegreyshadows。Goingintohishousehecutslicesofbreadandspreadhoneyuponthem。Whentherumbleoftheeveningtrainthattookawaytheexpresscarsloadedwiththeday"sharvestofberrieshadpassedandrestoredthesilenceofthesummernight，hewentagaintowalkupontheveranda。Inthedarknesshecouldnotseethehandsandtheybecamequiet。Althoughhestillhungeredforthepresenceoftheboy，whowasthemediumthroughwhichheexpressedhisloveofman，thehungerbecameagainapartofhisloneli-

nessandhiswaiting。Lightingalamp，WingBid-

dlebaumwashedthefewdishessoiledbyhissimplemealand，settingupafoldingcotbythescreendoorthatledtotheporch，preparedtoundressforthenight。Afewstraywhitebreadcrumbslayonthecleanlywashedfloorbythetable；puttingthelampuponalowstoolhebegantopickupthecrumbs，carryingthemtohismouthonebyonewithunbe-

lievablerapidity。Inthedenseblotchoflightbeneaththetable，thekneelingfigurelookedlikeapriestengagedinsomeserviceofhischurch。Thenervousexpressivefingers，flashinginandoutofthelight，mightwellhavebeenmistakenforthefingersofthedevoteegoingswiftlythroughdecadeafterdecadeofhisrosary。

PAPERPILLS

HEWASANoldmanwithawhitebeardandhugenoseandhands。Longbeforethetimeduringwhichwewillknowhim，hewasadoctoranddroveajadedwhitehorsefromhousetohousethroughthestreetsofWinesburg。Laterhemarriedagirlwhohadmoney。Shehadbeenleftalargefertilefarmwhenherfatherdied。Thegirlwasquiet，tall，anddark，andtomanypeoplesheseemedverybeauti-

ful。EveryoneinWinesburgwonderedwhyshemar-

riedthedoctor。Withinayearafterthemarriageshedied。

Theknucklesofthedoctor"shandswereextraordi-

narilylarge。Whenthehandswereclosedtheylookedlikeclustersofunpaintedwoodenballsaslargeaswalnutsfastenedtogetherbysteelrods。Hesmokedacobpipeandafterhiswife"sdeathsatalldayinhisemptyofficeclosebyawindowthatwascoveredwithcobwebs。Heneveropenedthewin-

dow。OnceonahotdayinAugusthetriedbutfounditstuckfastandafterthatheforgotallaboutit。

Winesburghadforgottentheoldman，butinDoc-

torReefythereweretheseedsofsomethingveryfine。AloneinhismustyofficeintheHeffnerBlockabovetheParisDryGoodsCompany"sstore，heworkedceaselessly，buildingupsomethingthathehimselfdestroyed。Littlepyramidsoftruthheerectedandaftererectingknockedthemdownagainthathemighthavethetruthstoerectotherpyramids。

DoctorReefywasatallmanwhohadwornonesuitofclothesfortenyears。Itwasfrayedatthesleevesandlittleholeshadappearedatthekneesandelbows。Intheofficeheworealsoalinendusterwithhugepocketsintowhichhecontinuallystuffedscrapsofpaper。Aftersomeweeksthescrapsofpaperbecamelittlehardroundballs，andwhenthepocketswerefilledhedumpedthemoutuponthefloor。Fortenyearshehadbutonefriend，anotheroldmannamedJohnSpaniardwhoownedatreenursery。Sometimes，inaplayfulmood，oldDoctorReefytookfromhispocketsahandfulofthepaperballsandthrewthematthenurseryman。"Thatistoconfoundyou，youblatheringoldsentimentalist，"

hecried，shakingwithlaughter。

ThestoryofDoctorReefyandhiscourtshipofthetalldarkgirlwhobecamehiswifeandlefthermoneytohimisaverycuriousstory。Itisdelicious，likethetwistedlittleapplesthatgrowintheor-

chardsofWinesburg。Inthefallonewalksintheorchardsandthegroundishardwithfrostunder-

foot。Theappleshavebeentakenfromthetreesbythepickers。Theyhavebeenputinbarrelsandshippedtothecitieswheretheywillbeeateninapartmentsthatarefilledwithbooks，magazines，furniture，andpeople。Onthetreesareonlyafewgnarledapplesthatthepickershaverejected。TheylookliketheknucklesofDoctorReefy"shands。Onenibblesatthemandtheyaredelicious。Intoalittleroundplaceatthesideoftheapplehasbeengath-

eredallofitssweetness。Onerunsfromtreetotreeoverthefrostedgroundpickingthegnarled，twistedapplesandfillinghispocketswiththem。Onlythefewknowthesweetnessofthetwistedapples。

ThegirlandDoctorReefybegantheircourtshiponasummerafternoon。Hewasforty-fivethenandalreadyhehadbegunthepracticeoffillinghispock-

etswiththescrapsofpaperthatbecamehardballsandwerethrownaway。Thehabithadbeenformedashesatinhisbuggybehindthejadedwhitehorseandwentslowlyalongcountryroads。Onthepaperswerewrittenthoughts，endsofthoughts，beginningsofthoughts。

OnebyonethemindofDoctorReefyhadmadethethoughts。Outofmanyofthemheformedatruththatarosegiganticinhismind。Thetruthcloudedtheworld。Itbecameterribleandthenfadedawayandthelittlethoughtsbeganagain。

ThetalldarkgirlcametoseeDoctorReefybecauseshewasinthefamilywayandhadbecomefright-

ened。Shewasinthatconditionbecauseofaseriesofcircumstancesalsocurious。

Thedeathofherfatherandmotherandtherichacresoflandthathadcomedowntoherhadsetatrainofsuitorsonherheels。Fortwoyearsshesawsuitorsalmosteveryevening。Excepttwotheywereallalike。Theytalkedtoherofpassionandtherewasastrainedeagerqualityintheirvoicesandintheireyeswhentheylookedather。Thetwowhoweredifferentweremuchunlikeeachother。Oneofthem，aslenderyoungmanwithwhitehands，thesonofajewelerinWinesburg，talkedcontinuallyofvirginity。Whenhewaswithherhewasneveroffthesubject。Theother，ablack-hairedboywithlargeears，saidnothingatallbutalwaysmanagedtogetherintothedarkness，wherehebegantokissher。

Foratimethetalldarkgirlthoughtshewouldmarrythejeweler"sson。Forhoursshesatinsilencelisteningashetalkedtoherandthenshebegantobeafraidofsomething。Beneathhistalkofvirginityshebegantothinktherewasalustgreaterthaninalltheothers。Attimesitseemedtoherthatashetalkedhewasholdingherbodyinhishands。Sheimaginedhimturningitslowlyaboutinthewhitehandsandstaringatit。Atnightshedreamedthathehadbittenintoherbodyandthathisjawsweredripping。Shehadthedreamthreetimes，thenshebecameinthefamilywaytotheonewhosaidnoth-

ingatallbutwhointhemomentofhispassionactuallydidbitehershouldersothatfordaysthemarksofhisteethshowed。

AfterthetalldarkgirlcametoknowDoctorReefyitseemedtoherthatsheneverwantedtoleavehimagain。Shewentintohisofficeonemorningandwithouthersayinganythingheseemedtoknowwhathadhappenedtoher。

Intheofficeofthedoctortherewasawoman，thewifeofthemanwhokeptthebookstoreinWines-

burg。Likeallold-fashionedcountrypractitioners，DoctorReefypulledteeth，andthewomanwhowaitedheldahandkerchieftoherteethandgroaned。

Herhusbandwaswithherandwhenthetoothwastakenouttheybothscreamedandbloodrandownonthewoman"swhitedress。Thetalldarkgirldidnotpayanyattention。Whenthewomanandthemanhadgonethedoctorsmiled。"Iwilltakeyoudrivingintothecountrywithme，"hesaid。

Forseveralweeksthetalldarkgirlandthedoctorweretogetheralmosteveryday。Theconditionthathadbroughthertohimpassedinanillness，butshewaslikeonewhohasdiscoveredthesweetnessofthetwistedapples，shecouldnotgethermindfixedagainupontheroundperfectfruitthatiseateninthecityapartments。InthefallafterthebeginningofheracquaintanceshipwithhimshemarriedDoc-

torReefyandinthefollowingspringshedied。Dur-

ingthewinterhereadtoheralloftheoddsandendsofthoughtshehadscribbledonthebitsofpaper。Afterhehadreadthemhelaughedandstuffedthemawayinhispocketstobecomeroundhardballs。

MOTHER

ELIZABETHWILLARD，themotherofGeorgeWillard，wastallandgauntandherfacewasmarkedwithsmallpoxscars。Althoughshewasbutforty-five，someobscurediseasehadtakenthefireoutofherfigure。Listlesslyshewentaboutthedisorderlyoldhotellookingatthefadedwall-paperandtheraggedcarpetsand，whenshewasabletobeabout，doingtheworkofachambermaidamongbedssoiledbytheslumbersoffattravelingmen。Herhusband，TomWillard，aslender，gracefulmanwithsquareshoulders，aquickmilitarystep，andablackmus-

tachetrainedtoturnsharplyupattheends，triedtoputthewifeoutofhismind。Thepresenceofthetallghostlyfigure，movingslowlythroughthehalls，hetookasareproachtohimself。Whenhethoughtofherhegrewangryandswore。Thehotelwasun-

profitableandforeverontheedgeoffailureandhewishedhimselfoutofit。Hethoughtoftheoldhouseandthewomanwholivedtherewithhimasthingsdefeatedanddonefor。Thehotelinwhichhehadbegunlifesohopefullywasnowamereghostofwhatahotelshouldbe。Ashewentspruceandbusiness-likethroughthestreetsofWinesburg，hesometimesstoppedandturnedquicklyaboutasthoughfearingthatthespiritofthehotelandofthewomanwouldfollowhimevenintothestreets。

"Damnsuchalife，damnit!"hesputteredaimlessly。

TomWillardhadapassionforvillagepoliticsandforyearshadbeentheleadingDemocratinastronglyRepublicancommunity。Someday，hetoldhimself，thefideofthingspoliticalwillturninmyfavorandtheyearsofineffectualservicecountbiginthebestowalofrewards。HedreamedofgoingtoCongressandevenofbecominggovernor。Oncewhenayoungermemberofthepartyaroseatapoliticalconferenceandbegantoboastofhisfaithfulservice，TomWillardgrewwhitewithfury。"Shutup，you，"heroared，glaringabout。"Whatdoyouknowofservice？Whatareyoubutaboy？LookatwhatI"vedonehere!IwasaDemocrathereinWinesburgwhenitwasacrimetobeaDemocrat。

Intheolddaystheyfairlyhunteduswithguns。"

BetweenElizabethandheronesonGeorgetherewasadeepunexpressedbondofsympathy，basedonagirlhooddreamthathadlongagodied。Intheson"spresenceshewastimidandreserved，butsometimeswhilehehurriedabouttownintentuponhisdutiesasareporter，shewentintohisroomandclosingthedoorkneltbyalittledesk，madeofakitchentable，thatsatnearawindow。Intheroombythedeskshewentthroughaceremonythatwashalfaprayer，halfademand，addressedtotheskies。

Intheboyishfiguresheyearnedtoseesomethinghalfforgottenthathadoncebeenapartofherselfre-

created。Theprayerconcernedthat。"EventhoughI

die，Iwillinsomewaykeepdefeatfromyou，"shecried，andsodeepwasherdeterminationthatherwholebodyshook。Hereyesglowedandsheclenchedherfists。"IfIamdeadandseehimbecomingameaninglessdrabfigurelikemyself，Iwillcomeback，"shedeclared。"IaskGodnowtogivemethatprivilege。Idemandit。Iwillpayforit。Godmaybeatmewithhisfists。Iwilltakeanyblowthatmaybefallifbutthismyboybeallowedtoexpresssome-

thingforusboth。"Pausinguncertainly，thewomanstaredabouttheboy"sroom。"Anddonotlethimbecomesmartandsuccessfuleither，"sheaddedvaguely。

ThecommunionbetweenGeorgeWillardandhismotherwasoutwardlyaformalthingwithoutmean-

ing。Whenshewasillandsatbythewindowinherroomhesometimeswentintheeveningtomakeheravisit。TheysatbyawindowthatlookedovertheroofofasmallframebuildingintoMainStreet。

Byturningtheirheadstheycouldseethroughan-

otherwindow，alonganalleywaythatranbehindtheMainStreetstoresandintothebackdoorofAbnerGroff"sbakery。Sometimesastheysatthusapictureofvillagelifepresenteditselftothem。AtthebackdoorofhisshopappearedAbnerGroffwithastickoranemptymilkbottleinhishand。ForalongtimetherewasafeudbetweenthebakerandagreycatthatbelongedtoSylvesterWest，thedruggist。

Theboyandhismothersawthecatcreepintothedoorofthebakeryandpresentlyemergefollowedbythebaker，whosworeandwavedhisarmsabout。

Thebaker"seyesweresmallandredandhisblackhairandbeardwerefilledwithflourdust。Some-

timeshewassoangrythat，althoughthecathaddisappeared，hehurledsticks，bitsofbrokenglass，andevensomeofthetoolsofhistradeabout。OncehebrokeawindowatthebackofSinning"sHard-

wareStore。Inthealleythegreycatcrouchedbehindbarrelsfilledwithtornpaperandbrokenbottlesabovewhichflewablackswarmofflies。Oncewhenshewasalone，andafterwatchingaprolongedandineffectualoutburstonthepartofthebaker，Eliza-

bethWillardputherheaddownonherlongwhitehandsandwept。Afterthatshedidnotlookalongthealleywayanymore，buttriedtoforgetthecon-

testbetweenthebeardedmanandthecat。Itseemedlikearehearsalofherownlife，terribleinitsvividness。

Intheeveningwhenthesonsatintheroomwithhismother，thesilencemadethembothfeelawk-

ward。Darknesscameonandtheeveningtraincameinatthestation。Inthestreetbelowfeettrampedupanddownuponaboardsidewalk。Inthestationyard，aftertheeveningtrainhadgone，therewasaheavysilence。PerhapsSkinnerLeason，theexpressagent，movedatruckthelengthofthestationplat-

form。OveronMainStreetsoundedaman"svoice，laughing。Thedooroftheexpressofficebanged。

GeorgeWillardaroseandcrossingtheroomfumbledforthedoorknob。Sometimesheknockedagainstachair，makingitscrapealongthefloor。Bythewin-

dowsatthesickwoman，perfectlystill，listless。Herlonghands，whiteandbloodless，couldbeseendroopingovertheendsofthearmsofthechair。"I

thinkyouhadbetterbeoutamongtheboys。Youaretoomuchindoors，"shesaid，strivingtorelievetheembarrassmentofthedeparture。"IthoughtI

wouldtakeawalk，"repliedGeorgeWillard，whofeltawkwardandconfused。

OneeveninginJuly，whenthetransientguestswhomadetheNewWillardHousetheirtemporaryhomehadbecomescarce，andthehallways，lightedonlybykerosenelampsturnedlow，wereplungedingloom，ElizabethWillardhadanadventure。Shehadbeenillinbedforseveraldaysandhersonhadnotcometovisither。Shewasalarmed。Thefeebleblazeoflifethatremainedinherbodywasblownintoaflamebyheranxietyandshecreptoutofbed，dressedandhurriedalongthehallwaytowardherson"sroom，shakingwithexaggeratedfears。Asshewentalongshesteadiedherselfwithherhand，slippedalongthepaperedwallsofthehallandbreathedwithdifficulty。Theairwhistledthroughherteeth。Asshehurriedforwardshethoughthowfoolishshewas。"Heisconcernedwithboyishaf-

fairs，"shetoldherself。"Perhapshehasnowbeguntowalkaboutintheeveningwithgirls。"

ElizabethWillardhadadreadofbeingseenbyguestsinthehotelthathadoncebelongedtoherfatherandtheownershipofwhichstillstoodre-

cordedinhernameinthecountycourthouse。Thehotelwascontinuallylosingpatronagebecauseofitsshabbinessandshethoughtofherselfasalsoshabby。

Herownroomwasinanobscurecornerandwhenshefeltabletoworkshevoluntarilyworkedamongthebeds，preferringthelaborthatcouldbedonewhentheguestswereabroadseekingtradeamongthemerchantsofWinesburg。

Bythedoorofherson"sroomthemotherkneltuponthefloorandlistenedforsomesoundfromwithin。Whensheheardtheboymovingaboutandtalkinginlowtonesasmilecametoherlips。GeorgeWillardhadahabitoftalkingaloudtohimselfandtohearhimdoingsohadalwaysgivenhismotherapeculiarpleasure。Thehabitinhim，shefelt，strengthenedthesecretbondthatexistedbetweenthem。Athousandtimesshehadwhisperedtoher-

selfofthematter。"Heisgropingabout，tryingtofindhimself，"shethought。"Heisnotadullclod，allwordsandsmartness。Withinhimthereisasecretsomethingthatisstrivingtogrow。ItisthethingI

letbekilledinmyself。"

Inthedarknessinthehallwaybythedoorthesickwomanaroseandstartedagaintowardherownroom。Shewasafraidthatthedoorwouldopenandtheboycomeuponher。Whenshehadreachedasafedistanceandwasabouttoturnacornerintoasecondhallwayshestoppedandbracingherselfwithherhandswaited，thinkingtoshakeoffatremblingfitofweaknessthathadcomeuponher。

Thepresenceoftheboyintheroomhadmadeherhappy。Inherbed，duringthelonghoursalone，thelittlefearsthathadvisitedherhadbecomegiants。

Nowtheywereallgone。"WhenIgetbacktomyroomIshallsleep，"shemurmuredgratefully。

ButElizabethWillardwasnottoreturntoherbedandtosleep。Asshestoodtremblinginthedarknessthedoorofherson"sroomopenedandtheboy"sfather，TomWillard，steppedout。Inthelightthatsteamedoutatthedoorhestoodwiththeknobinhishandandtalked。Whathesaidinfuriatedthewoman。

TomWillardwasambitiousforhisson。Hehadalwaysthoughtofhimselfasasuccessfulman，al-

thoughnothinghehadeverdonehadturnedoutsuccessfully。However，whenhewasoutofsightoftheNewWillardHouseandhadnofearofcominguponhiswife，heswaggeredandbegantodrama-

tizehimselfasoneofthechiefmenofthetown。Hewantedhissontosucceed。Heitwaswhohadse-

curedfortheboythepositionontheWinesburgEagle。Now，witharingofearnestnessinhisvoice，hewasadvisingconcerningsomecourseofconduct。

"Itellyouwhat，George，you"vegottowakeup，"

hesaidsharply。"WillHendersonhasspokentomethreetimesconcerningthematter。Hesaysyougoalongforhoursnothearingwhenyouarespokentoandactinglikeagawkygirl。Whatailsyou？"TomWillardlaughedgood-naturedly。"Well，Iguessyou"llgetoverit，"hesaid。"ItoldWillthat。You"renotafoolandyou"renotawoman。You"reTomWillard"ssonandyou"llwakeup。I"mnotafraid。

Whatyousayclearsthingsup。Ifbeinganewspapermanhadputthenotionofbecomingawriterintoyourmindthat"sallright。OnlyIguessyou"llhavetowakeuptodothattoo，eh？"

TomWillardwentbrisklyalongthehallwayanddownaflightofstairstotheoffice。Thewomaninthedarknesscouldhearhimlaughingandtalkingwithaguestwhowasstrivingtowearawayadulleveningbydozinginachairbytheofficedoor。Shereturnedtothedoorofherson"sroom。Theweak-

nesshadpassedfromherbodyasbyamiracleandshesteppedboldlyalong。Athousandideasracedthroughherhead。Whensheheardthescrapingofachairandthesoundofapenscratchinguponpaper，sheagainturnedandwentbackalongthehallwaytoherownroom。

AdefinitedeterminationhadcomeintothemindofthedefeatedwifeoftheWinesburghotelkeeper。

Thedeterminationwastheresultoflongyearsofquietandratherineffectualthinking。"Now，"shetoldherself，"Iwillact。Thereissomethingthreaten-

ingmyboyandIwillwarditoff。"ThefactthattheconversationbetweenTomWillardandhissonhadbeenratherquietandnatural，asthoughanunder-

standingexistedbetweenthem，maddenedher。Al-

thoughforyearsshehadhatedherhusband，herhatredhadalwaysbeforebeenaquiteimpersonalthing。Hehadbeenmerelyapartofsomethingelsethatshehated。Now，andbythefewwordsatthedoor，hehadbecomethethingpersonified。Inthedarknessofherownroomsheclenchedherfistsandglaredabout。Goingtoaclothbagthathungonanailbythewallshetookoutalongpairofsewingscissorsandheldtheminherhandlikeadagger。"I

willstabhim，"shesaidaloud。"HehaschosentobethevoiceofevilandIwillkillhim。WhenIhavekilledhimsomethingwillsnapwithinmyselfandI

willdiealso。Itwillbeareleaseforallofus。"

InhergirlhoodandbeforehermarriagewithTomWillard，Elizabethhadborneasomewhatshakyrep-

utationinWinesburg。Foryearsshehadbeenwhatiscalled"stage-struck"andhadparadedthroughthestreetswithtravelingmenguestsatherfather"shotel，wearingloudclothesandurgingthemtotellheroflifeinthecitiesoutofwhichtheyhadcome。

Onceshestartledthetownbyputtingonmen"sclothesandridingabicycledownMainStreet。

Inherownmindthetalldarkgirlhadbeeninthosedaysmuchconfused。Agreatrestlessnesswasinheranditexpresseditselfintwoways。Firsttherewasanuneasydesireforchange，forsomebigdefi-

nitemovementtoherlife。Itwasthisfeelingthathadturnedhermindtothestage。Shedreamedofjoiningsomecompanyandwanderingovertheworld，seeingalwaysnewfacesandgivingsome-

thingoutofherselftoallpeople。Sometimesatnightshewasquitebesideherselfwiththethought，butwhenshetriedtotalkofthemattertothemembersofthetheatricalcompaniesthatcametoWinesburgandstoppedatherfather"shotel，shegotnowhere。

Theydidnotseemtoknowwhatshemeant，orifshedidgetsomethingofherpassionexpressed，theyonlylaughed。"It"snotlikethat，"theysaid。

"It"sasdullanduninterestingasthishere。Nothingcomesofit。"

Withthetravelingmenwhenshewalkedaboutwiththem，andlaterwithTomWillard，itwasquitedifferent。Alwaystheyseemedtounderstandandsympathizewithher。Onthesidestreetsofthevil-

lage，inthedarknessunderthetrees，theytookholdofherhandandshethoughtthatsomethingunex-

pressedinherselfcameforthandbecameapartofanunexpressedsomethinginthem。

Andthentherewasthesecondexpressionofherrestlessness。Whenthatcameshefeltforatimere-

leasedandhappy。ShedidnotblamethemenwhowalkedwithherandlatershedidnotblameTomWillard。Itwasalwaysthesame，beginningwithkissesandending，afterstrangewildemotions，withpeaceandthensobbingrepentance。Whenshesobbedsheputherhanduponthefaceofthemanandhadalwaysthesamethought。Eventhoughhewerelargeandbeardedshethoughthehadbecomesuddenlyalittleboy。Shewonderedwhyhedidnotsobalso。

Inherroom，tuckedawayinacorneroftheoldWillardHouse，ElizabethWillardlightedalampandputitonadressingtablethatstoodbythedoor。A

thoughthadcomeintohermindandshewenttoaclosetandbroughtoutasmallsquareboxandsetitonthetable。Theboxcontainedmaterialformake-

upandhadbeenleftwithotherthingsbyatheatricalcompanythathadoncebeenstrandedinWines-

burg。ElizabethWillardhaddecidedthatshewouldbebeautiful。Herhairwasstillblackandtherewasagreatmassofitbraidedandcoiledaboutherhead。

Thescenethatwastotakeplaceintheofficebelowbegantogrowinhermind。Noghostlyworn-outfigureshouldconfrontTomWillard，butsomethingquiteunexpectedandstartling。Tallandwithduskycheeksandhairthatfellinamassfromhershoul-

ders，afigureshouldcomestridingdownthestair-

waybeforethestartledloungersinthehoteloffice。

Thefigurewouldbesilent——itwouldbeswiftandterrible。Asatigresswhosecubhadbeenthreatenedwouldsheappear，comingoutoftheshadows，steal-

ingnoiselesslyalongandholdingthelongwickedscissorsinherhand。

Withalittlebrokensobinherthroat，ElizabethWillardblewoutthelightthatstooduponthetableandstoodweakandtremblinginthedarkness。Thestrengththathadbeenasamiracleinherbodyleftandshehalfreeledacrossthefloor，clutchingatthebackofthechairinwhichshehadspentsomanylongdaysstaringoutoverthetinroofsintothemainstreetofWinesburg。InthehallwaytherewasthesoundoffootstepsandGeorgeWillardcameinatthedoor。Sittinginachairbesidehismotherhebegantotalk。"I"mgoingtogetoutofhere，"hesaid。"Idon"tknowwhereIshallgoorwhatIshalldobutIamgoingaway。"

Thewomaninthechairwaitedandtrembled。Animpulsecametoher。"Isupposeyouhadbetterwakeup，"shesaid。"Youthinkthat？Youwillgotothecityandmakemoney，eh？Itwillbebetterforyou，youthink，tobeabusinessman，tobebriskandsmartandalive？"Shewaitedandtrembled。

Thesonshookhishead。"IsupposeIcan"tmakeyouunderstand，butoh，IwishIcould，"hesaidearnestly。"Ican"teventalktofatheraboutit。Idon"ttry。Thereisn"tanyuse。Idon"tknowwhatIshalldo。Ijustwanttogoawayandlookatpeopleandthink。"

Silencefellupontheroomwheretheboyandwomansattogether。Again，asontheothereve-

nings，theywereembarrassed。Afteratimetheboytriedagaintotalk。"Isupposeitwon"tbeforayearortwobutI"vebeenthinkingaboutit，"hesaid，risingandgoingtowardthedoor。"SomethingfathersaidmakesitsurethatIshallhavetogoaway。"Hefumbledwiththedoorknob。Intheroomthesilencebecameunbearabletothewoman。Shewantedtocryoutwithjoybecauseofthewordsthathadcomefromthelipsofherson，buttheexpressionofjoyhadbecomeimpossibletoher。"Ithinkyouhadbet-

tergooutamongtheboys。Youaretoomuchin-

doors，"shesaid。"IthoughtIwouldgoforalittlewalk，"repliedthesonsteppingawkwardlyoutoftheroomandclosingthedoor。

THEPHILOSOPHER

DOCTORPARCIVALwasalargemanwithadroopingmouthcoveredbyayellowmustache。Healwaysworeadirtywhitewaistcoatoutofthepocketsofwhichprotrudedanumberofthekindofblackci-

garsknownasstogies。Histeethwereblackandirregularandtherewassomethingstrangeabouthiseyes。Thelidofthelefteyetwitched；itfelldownandsnappedup；itwasexactlyasthoughthelidoftheeyewereawindowshadeandsomeonestoodinsidethedoctor"sheadplayingwiththecord。

DoctorParcivalhadalikingfortheboy，GeorgeWillard。ItbeganwhenGeorgehadbeenworkingforayearontheWinesburgEagleandtheacquain-