按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
… Page 53…
The Voice of the City
THE DEFEAT OF THE CITY
Robert Walmsley's descent upon the city resulted in a Kilkenny
struggle。 He came out of the fight victor by a fortune and a reputation。 On
the other band； he was swallowed up by the city。 The city gave him what
he demanded and then branded him with its brand。 It remodelled； cut；
trimmed and stamped him to the pattern it approves。 It opened its social
gates to him and shut him in on a close… cropped； formal lawn with the
select herd of rumi… nants。 In dress； habits； manners； provincialism； routine
and narrowness he acquired that charming in… solence； that irritating
completeness； that sophisti… cated crassness； that overbalanced poise that
makes the Manhattan gentleman so delightfully small in his greatness。
One of the up…state rural counties pointed with pride to the successful
young metropolitan lawyer as a product of its soil。 Six years earlier this
county had removed the wheat straw from between its huckle… berry…
stained teeth and emitted a derisive and bucolic laugh as old man
Walmsley's freckle…faced 〃 Bob abandoned the certain three…per…diem
meals of the one…horse farm for the discontinuous quick lunch counters of
the three…ringed metropolis。 At the end of the six years no murder trial；
coaching party； au… tomobile accident or cotillion was complete in which
the name of Robert Walmsley did not figure。 Tailors waylaid him in the
street to get a new wrinkle from the cut of his unwrinkled trousers。
Hyphenated fel… lows in the clubs and members of the oldest subpoenaed
families were glad to clap him on the back and allow him three letters of
his name。
But the Matterhorn of Robert Walmsley's success was not scaled until
be married Alicia Van Der Pool。 I cite the Matterhorn； for just so high and
cool and white and inaccessible was this daughter of the old burghers。 The
social Alps that ranged about her over whose bleak passes a thousand
climbers struggled reached only to her knees。 She towered in her own
atmosphere； serene； chaste； prideful； wading in no fountains； dining no
monkeys； breeding no dogs for bench shows。 She was a Van Der Pool。
Fountains were made to play for her； monkeys were made for other
people's ancestors； dogs； she understood； were created to be companions
53
… Page 54…
The Voice of the City
of blind persons and objec… tionable characters who smoked pipes。
This was the Matterhorn that Robert Walmsley accomplished。 If he
found； with the good poet with the game foot and artificially curled hair；
that he who ascends to mountain tops will find the loftiest peaks most
wrapped in clouds and snow； he concealed his chilblains beneath a brave
and smiling exterior。 He was a lucky man and knew it； even though he
were imitating the Spartan boy with an ice…cream freezer beneath his
doublet frappeeing the region of his heart。
After a brief wedding tour abroad； the couple re… turned to create a
decided ripple in the calm cistern （so placid and cool and sunless it is） of
the best so… ciety。 They entertained at their red brick mausoleum of ancient
greatness in an old square that is a ceme… tery of crumbled glory。 And
Robert Walmsley was proud of his wife； although while one of his hands
shook his guests' the other held tightly to his alpen… stock and
thermometer。
One day Alicia found a letter written to Robert by his mother。 It was an
unerudite letter； full of crops and motherly love and farm notes。 It
chronicled the health of the pig and the recent red calf； and asked
concerning Robert's in return。 It was a letter direct from the soil； straight
from home； full of biographies of bees； tales of turnips； peaans of new…laid
eggs； neg… lected parents and the slump in dried apples。
〃Why have I not been shown your mother's let… ters？〃 asked Alicia。
There was always something in her voice that made you think of
lorgnettes； of ac… counts at Tiffany's； of sledges smoothly gliding on the
trail from Dawson to Forty Mile； of the tinkling of pendant prisms on your
grandmothers' chandeliers； of snow lying on a convent roof； of a police
sergeant refusing bail。 〃Your mother；〃 continued Alicia； 〃invites us to
make a visit to the farm。 I have never seen a farm。 We will go there for a
week or two； Robert。〃
〃We will；〃 said Robert； with the grand air of an associate Supreme
Justice concurring in an opinion。 〃I did not lay the invitation before you
because I thought you would not care to go。 I am much pleased at your
decision。〃
〃I will write to her myself；〃 answered Alicia； with a faint
54
… Page 55…
The Voice of the City
foreshadowing of enthusiasm。 〃 Felice shall pack my trunks at once。 Seven；
I think； will be enough。 I do not suppose that your mother entertains a
great deal。 Does she give many house parties？〃
Robert arose； and as attorney for rural places filed a demurrer against
six of the seven trunks。 He en… deavored to define； picture； elucidate； set
forth and describe a farm。 His own words sounded strange in his ears。 He
had not realized how thoroughly urbsi… dized he had become。
A week passed and found them landed at the little country station five
hours out from the city。 A grin… ning； stentorian； sarcastic youth driving a
mule to a spring wagon hailed Robert savagely。
〃Hallo； Mr。 Walmsley。 Found your way back at last； have you？ Sorry I
couldn't bring in the auto… mobile for you； but dad's bull…tonguing the ten…
acre clover patch with it to…day。 Guess you'll excuse my； not wearing a
dress suit over to meet you it ain't six o'clock yet； you know。〃
〃I'm glad to see you； Tom；〃 said Robert； grasp… ing his brother's band。
〃Yes； I've found my way at last。 You've a right to say 'at last。' It's been over
two years since the last time。 But it will be oftener after this； my boy。〃
Alicia； cool in the summer beat as an Arctic wraith； white as a Norse
snow maiden in her flimsy muslin and fluttering lace parasol； came round
the corner of the station； and Tom was stripped of his assurance。 He
became chiefly eyesight clothed in blue jeans； and on the homeward drive
to the mule alone did he confide in language the inwardness of his
thoughts。
They drove homeward。 The low sun dropped a spendthrift flood of
gold upon the fortunate fields of wheat。 The cities were far away。 The road
lay curl… ing around wood and dale and bill like a ribbon lost from the robe
of careless summer。 The wind followed like a whinnying colt in the track
of Phoebus's steeds。
By and by the farmhouse peeped gray out of its faithful grove； they
saw the long lane with its convoy of walnut trees running from the road to
the house； they smelled the wild rose and the breath of cool； damp willows
in the creek's bed。 And then in unison all the voices of the soil began a
chant addressed to the