He went in, for among these
provincial
youths he
felt distinguished; besides, he was a really good player.
felt distinguished; besides, he was a really good player.
Yeats
'
'I could not live with anyone I did not believe in,' said Howard; 'you
are so different from me. You can live with mere facts, and that is
why, I suppose, your schemes are so mercenary. Before this beautiful
river, these stars, these great purple shadows, do you not feel like
an insect in a flower? As for me, I also have planned my future. Not
too near or too far from a great city, I see myself in a cottage
with diamond panes, sitting by the fire. There are books everywhere
and etchings on the wall; on the table is a manuscript essay on some
religious matter. Perhaps I shall marry some day. Probably not, for I
shall ask so much. Certainly I shall not marry for money, for I hold
that when we have lost the directness and sincerity of our nature we
have no compass. If we once break it the world grows trackless. '
'Good-bye,' said Sherman, briskly; 'I have baited the last hook. Your
schemes suit you, but a sluggish fellow like me, poor devil, who wishes
to lounge through the world, would find them expensive. '
They parted; Sherman to set his lines and Howard to his hotel in high
spirits, for it seemed to him he had been eloquent. The billiard-room,
which opened on the street, was lighted up. A few young men came round
to play sometimes.
He went in, for among these provincial youths he
felt distinguished; besides, he was a really good player. As he came
in one of the players missed and swore. Howard reproved him with a
look. He joined the play for a time, and then catching sight through a
distant door of the hotel-keeper's wife putting a kettle on the hob he
hurried off, and, drawing a chair to the fire, began one of those long
gossips about everybody's affairs peculiar to the cloth.
As Sherman, having set his lines, returned home, he passed a
tobacconist's--a sweet-shop and tobacconist's in one--the only shop
in town, except public-houses, that remained open. The tobacconist
was standing in his door, and, recognizing one who dealt consistently
with a rival at the other end of the town, muttered: 'There goes that
Jack o' Dreams; been fishing most likely. Ugh! ' Sherman paused for a
moment as he repassed the bridge and looked at the water, on which now
a new-risen and crescent moon was shining dimly. How full of memories
it was to him! what playmates and boyish adventures did it not bring to
mind! To him it seemed to say, 'Stay near to me,' as to Howard it had
said, 'Go yonder, to those other joys and other sceneries I have told
you of. ' It bade him who loved stay still and dream, and gave flying
feet to him who imagined.
II
The house where Sherman and his mother lived was one of those bare
houses so common in country towns. Their dashed fronts mounting above
empty pavements have a kind of dignity in their utilitarianism. They
seem to say, 'Fashion has not made us, nor ever do its caprices pass
our sand-cleaned doorsteps. ' On every basement window is the same dingy
wire blind; on every door the same brass knocker.
'I could not live with anyone I did not believe in,' said Howard; 'you
are so different from me. You can live with mere facts, and that is
why, I suppose, your schemes are so mercenary. Before this beautiful
river, these stars, these great purple shadows, do you not feel like
an insect in a flower? As for me, I also have planned my future. Not
too near or too far from a great city, I see myself in a cottage
with diamond panes, sitting by the fire. There are books everywhere
and etchings on the wall; on the table is a manuscript essay on some
religious matter. Perhaps I shall marry some day. Probably not, for I
shall ask so much. Certainly I shall not marry for money, for I hold
that when we have lost the directness and sincerity of our nature we
have no compass. If we once break it the world grows trackless. '
'Good-bye,' said Sherman, briskly; 'I have baited the last hook. Your
schemes suit you, but a sluggish fellow like me, poor devil, who wishes
to lounge through the world, would find them expensive. '
They parted; Sherman to set his lines and Howard to his hotel in high
spirits, for it seemed to him he had been eloquent. The billiard-room,
which opened on the street, was lighted up. A few young men came round
to play sometimes.
He went in, for among these provincial youths he
felt distinguished; besides, he was a really good player. As he came
in one of the players missed and swore. Howard reproved him with a
look. He joined the play for a time, and then catching sight through a
distant door of the hotel-keeper's wife putting a kettle on the hob he
hurried off, and, drawing a chair to the fire, began one of those long
gossips about everybody's affairs peculiar to the cloth.
As Sherman, having set his lines, returned home, he passed a
tobacconist's--a sweet-shop and tobacconist's in one--the only shop
in town, except public-houses, that remained open. The tobacconist
was standing in his door, and, recognizing one who dealt consistently
with a rival at the other end of the town, muttered: 'There goes that
Jack o' Dreams; been fishing most likely. Ugh! ' Sherman paused for a
moment as he repassed the bridge and looked at the water, on which now
a new-risen and crescent moon was shining dimly. How full of memories
it was to him! what playmates and boyish adventures did it not bring to
mind! To him it seemed to say, 'Stay near to me,' as to Howard it had
said, 'Go yonder, to those other joys and other sceneries I have told
you of. ' It bade him who loved stay still and dream, and gave flying
feet to him who imagined.
II
The house where Sherman and his mother lived was one of those bare
houses so common in country towns. Their dashed fronts mounting above
empty pavements have a kind of dignity in their utilitarianism. They
seem to say, 'Fashion has not made us, nor ever do its caprices pass
our sand-cleaned doorsteps. ' On every basement window is the same dingy
wire blind; on every door the same brass knocker.
