 At Twilight by Susan Glassbell. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Reading by Shona Brogdon-Sterble. At Twilight by Susan Glassbell. A breeze from the May World without, blew through the classroom. And as it lifted his papers, he had a curious sense of freshness and mustiness meeting. He looked at the group of students before him, half smiling at the way the breath of spring was teasing the hair of the girls sitting by the window. Anna Lawrence was trying to pin hers back again, but may would have none of such decorum, and only waited long enough for her to finish her work before joyously undoing it. She caught the laughing, admiring eyes of a boy sitting across from her, and sought to conceal her pleasure in her unmanageable wealth of hair by a right little face, and then the eyes of both straight out to the trees that had scented that breeze for them, looking with frank longing at the campus, which stretched before them in all its may glory that sunny afternoon. He remembered having met this boring girl strolling in the twilight the evening before, and as a buoyant breeze that instant swept his own face, he had a sudden irrelevant consciousness of being 23 years old. Other eyes were strained to the trees and birds and liligs of that world from which the classroom was for the hours shutting them out. He was used to it, that straying of young eyes in the spring. For more than forty years he'd sat at that desk and talked to young men and women about philosophy, and in those forty years there had always been straying eyes in May. The children, if some of those boys and girls had in time, come to him, and now there were other children who, before many years went by, might be sitting upon those benches, listening to lectures upon what men had thought about life. While their eyes straight out were your life called, so it went on, May perhaps the philosopher triumphant. As with a considerable effort for the Langer of Spring, or some other Langer was upon him too, he brought himself back to the papers they had handed in. He found himself thinking of those first boys and girls, now men and women, and parents of other boys and girls. He hoped that philosophy had, after all, done something more than shut them out from May. He had always tried, not so much to instruct them in what men had thought, as to teach them to think, and perhaps now, when May had become a time for them to watch the straying of other eyes, they were the less desolate because of the habits he had helped them to form. He wanted to think that he had done something more than hoven prisoners. There was a sadness today and a sympathy. He was tired. It was hard to go back to what he had been saying about the different things the world's philosophers had believed about the immortality of the soul. So, as often when his feeling for his thought dragged, he turned to Greta Loring. She seldom failed to bring a revival of interest, a freshening. She was his favorite student. He did not believe that in all the years there had been any student who had not only pleased but helped him, as she did. He had taught her father and mother, and now there was Greta, clear-eyed and steady of gaze, asking more of life than either of them had asked, asking not only May, but what May meant. For Greta, there need be no duality. She was one of those rare ones for whom the meaning of life opened new springs to the joy of life, for whom life intensified with the understanding of it. He never said a thing that gratified him as reaching toward the things not easy to say, but that he would find Greta's face illumined, and always that eager little leaning ahead for more. She had that look of waiting now, but today it seemed less and expectant than a troubled look. She wanted him to go on with what he had been saying about the immortality of the soul. But it was not so much a demand upon him. He had come to rely upon those demands as it was when he had an odd, altogether absurd sense that it's being a fear for him. She looked uncomfortable, fretted, and suddenly he was startled to see her searching eyes blurred by something that must be tears. She turned away, and for just a moment it seemed to leave him alone and helpless. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. It felt hot. It got that way sometimes lately when he was tired, and the clothes of that hour often found him tired. He believed he knew what she wanted. She would have him declare his own belief. In the youthful flush of her modernism, she was impatient with that thumbling around with what other men had thought. Despising the muddled thinking of some of her classmates, she would have him put it right to them as, as for yourself, he tried to formulate what he would care to say, but perhaps just because he was too tired to say it right, the life the Robin in the next tree was that moment celebrating in song seemed more important than anything he had to say about his own feeling toward the things men had thought about the human soul. It was ten minutes before closing time, but suddenly he turned to his class with, go out of doors and think about it. This is no day to sit within and talk of philosophy. What men have thought about life in the past is less important than what you feel about it today. He paused, then added, he could not have said why. Don't let the shadow of either belief or unbelief fall across the days that are here for you now. Again he stopped, then surprised himself by ending philosophy should quicken life, not dead in it. They were not slow in going, their astonishment in his wanting them to go quickly engulfed in their pleasure in doing so. It was only Greta who lingered a moment, seeming too held by his manner in sending her out into the sunshine to care about going there. He thought she was going to come to the desk and speak to him. He was sure she wanted to, but at the last she went hastily and he thought just before she turned her face away that it was a tear he saw on her lashes. Strange! Was she unhappy? She, through whom life surged so richly? And yet was it not true that where it gave much, it exacted much? Feeling much and understanding what she felt and feeling for what she understood, must she also suffer much? Must one always pay? He sighed and began gathering together his papers. Thoughts about life tired him today. On the steps he paused, unreasonably enough a little saddened as he watched some of them beginning a tennis game. Certainly they were losing no time, eager to let go thoughts about life or its pleasures. Very few of them awake to that rich life he had tried to make them ready for. He drew still more rearly at the thought that perhaps his real gift he had for them was that unexpected ten minutes. Remembering a book he must have from the library, he turned back. He went to the alcove where the works on philosophy were to be found and was reaching up the volume he wanted when a sentence from a lowly murmured conversation the next aisle came to him across the stack of books. That's all very well we know of course that he doesn't believe, but what will he do when it comes to himself? It arrested him, coming as it did from one of the girls who just left his classroom. He stood there motionless, his hand still reaching up for the book. Do, why face it of course? Face it as squarely as he's faced every other fact of life. That was Greta, and though mindful of the library mandate for silence, her tone was low, it was vibrant with a fine scoring. Well, said the first speaker, I guess he'll have to face it before very long. That was not answered. There was a movement on the other side of the barricade of books. It might have been that Greta had turned away. His hand dropped down from the high shelf. He was leaning against the books. Haven't you noticed Greta, how he's losing his grip? At that his head went up sharply. He stood altogether tense as he waited for Greta to set the other girl right. Greta, so sure-seeing, so much wiser and truer than the rest of them, Greta would laugh. But she did not laugh. And what his strained ear caught at last was not her scornful denial, but a little gasp of breath suggesting a sob. Noticed it, why it breaks my heart. He stared at the books through which her low, passionate voice had carried. Then he sank to the chair that fortunately was beside him. Power for standing had gone from him. Father says, Father's on the board, you know. It was the first girl who spoke. They don't know what to do about it. It's not justice to the school to let him begin another year. These things are arranged with less embarrassment in the big schools where a man begins emeritus at a certain time. Though of course they'll pension him, he's done a lot for the school. He thanked Greta for her little laugh of disdain. The memory of it was more comforting, more satisfying than any attempt to put it into words could have been. He heard them move away, their skirts brushing the book stacks in passing. A little later he saw them out in the sunshine on the campus. Greta joined one of the boys for a game of tennis. Motionless he sat looking out at her. She looked so very young as she played. For an hour he remained at the table in Alcove where he had overheard what his students had to say of him. And when the hour had gone by the pen which was there upon the study table and wrote his resignation to the Secretary of the Board of Trustees it was very brief. Simply that he felt the time had come when a younger man could do more for the school than he and that he should like his resignation to take effect and the close of the present school year. He had an envelope and sealed and stamped the letter ready to drop in the box in front of the building as he left. He had always served the school as best he could. He lost no time now, once convinced in rendering to it the last service he could offer it that of making way for the younger man. Looking things squarely in the face and it was the habit of a lifetime to look things squarely in the face. He had not been long in seeing that they were right. Things tired him now as they had not once tired him. He had less zest at the beginning of the hour more relief at the close of it. He seemed stupid in not having seen it for himself but possibly many people were a little stupid in seeing that their own time was over. Of course he had thought in a vague way that his working time couldn't be much longer but it seemed part of the way human beings managed with themselves that things and even the very near future kept the remoteness of future things. Now he understood Greta's trouble look and her tears. He knew how those fine nerves of hers must have suffered. How her own mind had wanted to leap to the aid of his. How her own strength must have tormented her and not being able to reach his flagging powers. It seemed part of the whole hardness of life that she who would care the most would be the one to see it most understandably. What he was trying to do was to see it all very simply in matter of fact fashion that there might be no bitterness in the least of tragedy. It was nothing unique in human history he was facing. One did once work, then went through, one stopped. He tried to feel that it was as simple as it sounded but he wondered if back of many of those brief letters of resignation that came in quitting time there was the hurt, the desolation that there was no use denying to himself was back of his. He hoped that most men had more to turn to. Most men of 73 had grandchildren. That would help, surrounding one with a feeling of the naturalness of it all but that school had been his only child and he loved it with the tenderness one gives a child. That in him which would have gone to the child had gone to the school. The woman whom he loved had not loved him. He had never married. His life had been called lonely but lonely though it undeniably had been the life he won from books and work and thinking had kept the chill from his heart. He had the gift of drawing life from all contact with life. Working with youth he kept that feeling for youth that does for the life within what sunshine and fresh air do for the room in which one dwells. It was now that the loneliness that Blights seemed waiting for him. Life used one. And that in the ugly, not the noble sense of being used. Stripped of the fine fancies men wove around it. What was it beyond just a matter of being sucked dry and then thrown aside? Why not admit that and then face it? And the abundance with which one might have given the joy in the giving had no bearing upon the fact that it came at last to that question of getting one out of the way. It was no one's unkindness. It was just that life was like that. Indeed the bitterness festered around the thought that it was life itself, the way of life. Not the brutality of any particular people. They'll pinch in him. He's done a lot for the school. Even the grateful memory of Greta's tremulous scoffing little life for the way it fell short could not follow to the deep place that had been hurt. Getting himself in hand again and trying to face this as simply and honestly as he had sought to face the other, he knew that it was true. He had done a great deal for the school. He did not believe it too much to say he had done more for it than any other man. Certainly more than any other man he had given it what place it had with men who thought. He had come to it in his early manhood and at a time when the school was in its infancy just a crude struggling little western college. Greta Loring's grandfather had been one of its founders bounding it in revolt against the cramping sectarianism of another college. He had gloried in the spirit which gave it birth and it was he who through the encroachings of problems of administration and the ensnarements and entanglements of practicality had fought to keep unattached and unfettered that spirit of freedom in the service of truth. His own voice had been heard and recognized and a number of times during the years calls had come from more important institutions but he had not cared to go. For year by year there deepened that personal love for the little college to which he had given the youthful art of his own intellectual passion. All his life's habits were one with it. His days seemed beaten into the path that cut across the campus. The vines that season after season went a little higher on the wall out there indicated his strivings by their own and the generation that had worn down even the stones of those front steps had furrowed his forehead and stooped his shoulders. He had grown old along with it. His days were twined around it. It was the place of his efforts and satisfactions. Joys perhaps he should not call them of his falterings and his hopes. He loved it because he had given himself to it. Loved it because he had helped to bring it up. On the shelves all around him were books which had been his pleasure because during some of those hard years they were to be had in no other way to order himself and pay for from his own almost ludicrously meager salary. He remembered the excitement there always was in getting them fresh from the publisher and bringing them over there in his arms. The satisfaction coming in next day and finding them on the shelves such had been his dissipations, his indulgences of self. Many things came back to him as he sat there going back over busy years. The works on philosophy looking down upon him. The shadows that spring afternoon gathering around him. He looked like a very old man indeed as he at last reached out for the letter he had written to the trustees relieving them of their embarrassment. Twilight had come on. On the front steps he paused and looked around the campus. It was growing dark in that lingering way it has in the spring. Daylight creeping away under protest, night coming gently as if it knew that the world having been so pleasant day would be loath to go. The boys and girls are going back and forth upon the campus and the streets. They could not bear to go within for more than 40 years it had been like that. It would be like that for many times 40 years indeed until the end of the world for it would be the end of the world when it was not like that. He was glad that they were out in the twilight not indoors trying to gain from books something of the meaning of life. That course had its satisfactions along the way but it was surely no port of peace to which it bore one at the last. He shrock from going home. There was so many readjustments he must make what's home so lingering. He saw that off among the trees a girl was sitting alone. She threw back her head in a certain way just then and he knew by the gesture that it was great alluring. He wondered what she was thinking about. What did one who thought think about over there on the other side of life youth and age looked at life from opposite sides. Then they could not see it alike for what one saw in life seemed to depend so entirely upon how the light was falling from where one stood. He could not have said just what it was made him cross the campus toward her. Part of it was the desire for human sympathy one thing at least which age did not deaden but that was not the whole of it nor the deepest thing in it. It was an urge of the spirit to find and keep for itself a place where the light was falling backward upon life. She was quiet in her greeting and gentle. Her cheeks were still flushed her hair tumbled from her game but her eyes were thoughtful and he thought sad. He felt that the sadness was because of him, of him and the things of which he made her think. He knew of her affection for him the warmth there was in her admiration for things for which he had fought. He had discovered that it hurt her now that others should be seeing and not he. Pained her to watch so sorry a thing as his falling below himself wounded both pride and heart that men whom she would doubtless say had never appreciated him the spring among themselves about how to get rid of him while the poor child might even be tormenting herself with the idea she ought to tell him. That was why he told her. He pointed to the address on the envelope saying that carries my resignation Greta. Her start and the tears which rushed to her eyes told him he was right about her feeling. She did not seem able to say anything. Her chin was trembling. I see that the time has come, he said. When a younger man can do more for the school than I can hope to do for it. Still she said nothing at all but her eyes were deepening and she had that very steadfast almost inspired look that had so many times quickened him in the classroom. She was not going to deny it. She was not going to pretend. After the first feeling of not having got something needed he rose to her high ground. Ground she had taken it for granted he would take. And will you believe it Greta? He said rising to that ground and they're asking not for the sympathy that bends down but for a hand in passing. There comes a hard hour when first one feels the time has come to step aside and be replaced by that younger man. She nodded. It must be she said simply. It must be very much harder than any of us can know till we come to it. She brought him a sense of his advantage and experience his riches to be sure there was that and he was oddly comforted by his honesty in her which could not stoop to dishonest comforting. In what superficially might seem her failure there was a very real victory for them both. And there was nothing of coldness in her reserve. There was the fullness of understanding and of valuing the moments too highly for anything there was to be said about it. There was a great spiritual and nobility in the way she was looking at him. It called upon the whole of his own spiritual dignity. It was her old demand upon him but this time the tears through which her eyes shone were tears of pride and fulfillment not of sorrowing for failure. Suddenly he felt that his life had not been spent in vain that the lies of all those men lived by for intellectual honesty. Spiritual dignity had not been spent in vain if they were leaving upon the earth even a few who were like the girl beside them. It turned him from himself to her. She was what counted for she was what remained and he remained in just the measure that he remained through her. Counted in so far as he counted it was as if he had been facing in the wrong direction and now a kindly hand had turned him around. It was not in looking back there he would find himself he was not back there to be found. Only so much of him lived had been able to wing itself ahead on in the direction she was moving. It did not particularly surprise him when he spoke it was to voice his shade of that same feeling. I was thinking she began of that younger man of what he must mean to the man who gives way to him. She was feeling her way as she went groping among the many dim things that were there. He had always liked to watch her face when she was thinking her way step by step. I think you used the word wrongly a minute ago she said with a smile. You spoke of being replaced but that isn't it a man like you isn't replaced she got it after a minute came forth with it triumphantly fulfilled her face was shining as she turned to him after that don't you see he's there waiting to take your place because you got him ready why you make that younger man your whole life has been getting ready for him. He can do his work because you first did yours of course he can go farther than you can wouldn't it be a sorry commentary on you if he couldn't. Her voice dropped warmly upon that last and during the pause the light it had brought still played upon her face. We were talking in class about immortality she went on more slowly there's one form of immortality I like to think about it's that all those who from the very first have given anything to the world are living in the world today. There was a rush of tears to her eyes and of affection to her voice finished very low you'll never die you've deepened the consciousness of life too much for that they sat there as Twilight Junior tonight the old man and the young girl silent the laugh of boys and girls and the good night calls of the birds were all around them the fragrance of life was around them silences to which come impressions fates longings not yet born as thoughts something in the quality of that silence brought the rescuing sense of its having been good to have lived in done ones part that sense which from places of desolation and overways rough and steep and dark can find its way to the meadows of the city end of at Twilight by Susan Graspel this recording is in the public domain The Baroness D'Amos-Supin original short stories this is a LibreVox recording all LibreVox recordings are in the public domain for more information and to find out how you can volunteer please visit D'Amos-Supin original short stories it has been translated into English by Albert, MC McMaster A.E. Henderson and Madame Quistata and others The Baroness come with me said my friend Bois-René you will see some very interesting bric-a-brac here he conducted me to the first floor of an elegant house in one of the big streets of Paris we were welcomed by a very pleasing man with excellent manners who led us from room to room showing us rare things the price of which he mentioned carelessly large sums 10, 20, 30 50,000 francs dropped from his lips with such grace and ease without doubt that this gentleman merchant had millions shut up in his safe I had known him by reputation for a long time very bright, clever, intelligent he acted as intermediary in all sorts of transactions he kept in touch with all the richest art amateurs in Paris and even of Europe and America knowing their tastes and preferences he apprised them by letter or by wire if they lived in a distant city as soon as he knew of some work of art which might suit them men of the best society had had recourse to him in times of difficulty either to find money for gambling or to pay off a debt or to sell a picture a family jewel or a tapestry it is said that he never refused his services when he saw a chance of gain while René seemed very intimate with this strange merchant they must have worked together in many a deal I observed the man with great interest he was tall thin, bald, very elegant his soft insinuating voice had a peculiar tempting charm which seemed to give the objects a special value when he held anything in his hands he turned it round and round looking at it with such skill refinement and sympathy that the object seemed immediately to be beautiful and transformed by his look and touch and its value increased in one's estimation after the object had passed from the showcase to his hands and your crucifix while René said that beautiful reticence crucifix which you showed me last year the man smiled and answered it has been sold in a very peculiar manner there is a real Parisian story for you would you like to hear it with pleasure do you know the Baroness Samoris yes and no I have seen her once but I know what she is you know everything yes would you mind telling me so that I can see whether you are not mistaken certainly Madame Samoris is a woman of the world who has a daughter without anybody having known her husband at any rate she is received in a certain tolerant or blind society she goes to church and devoutly partakes of communion so that everyone may know it and she never compromises herself she expects her daughter to marry as well is that correct yes but I will complete your information she is a woman who makes herself respected by her admirers in spite of everything that is a rare quality for in this manner she can get a man the man whom she has chosen without his suspecting it courts her for a long time longs for her timidly wins her with astonishment and possesses her with consideration he does not notice that he is paying she is so tactful and she maintains her relations on such a footing of reserve and dignity that he would slap the first man who dared doubt her and all this in the best of faith several times I have been able to render little services to this woman she has no secrets from me toward the beginning of January she came to me in order to borrow 30,000 francs naturally I did not lend them to her but as I wished to oblige her I told her to explain her situation to me completely so that I might see whether there was not something that I could do for her she told me her troubles in such cautious language that she could not have spoken more delicately of her child's first communion I finally managed to understand that times were hard and that she was penniless the commercial crisis political unrest, rumors of war had made money scarce even in the hands of her clients and then of course she was very particular she would associate only with a man in the best of society who could strengthen her reputation as well as help her financially a reveler no matter how rich would have compromised her forever and would have made the marriage of her daughter quite dubful she had to maintain household expenses and continue to entertain in order not to lose the opportunity of finding among her numerous visitors the discreet and distinguished friend for whom she was waiting and whom she would choose I showed her that my 30,000 francs would have had but little likelihood of returning to me for after spending them all she would have had to find at least 60,000 more in a lump to pay me back she seemed very disheartened when she heard this I did not know just what to do when an idea a really fine idea struck me I had just bought this renaissance crucifix which I showed you an admirable piece of workmanship one of the finest of its land that I have ever seen my dear friend I said to her I am going to send you that piece of ivory you will invent some ingenious touching poetic story anything you wish to explain your desire for parting with it it is of course a family heirloom left to you by your father I myself will send you amateurs or will bring them to you the rest concerns you before they come I will drop you a line about their position both social and financial this crucifix is worth 50,000 francs but I will let it go for 30,000 the difference will belong to you she considered the matter seriously for several minutes and then answered yes it is perhaps a good idea I thank you very much the next day I sent her my crucifix and the same evening the Baron Saint-Opital for three months I sent her my best clients from a business point of view but I heard nothing more from her one day I received a visit from a foreigner who spoke very little French I decided to introduce him personally to the Baroness in order to see who was getting along a footman in black livery received us and ushered us into a quiet little parlor furnished with taste where we waited for several minutes she appeared charming as usual extended her hand to me and invited us to be seated and when I had explained the reason for my visit she rang the footman appeared see if mademoiselle Isabelle can let us go into her oratory the young girl herself brought the answer she was about 15 years of age modest and good to look upon in the sweet freshness of her youth she wished to conduct us herself to her chapel it was a kind of religious boudoir where a silver lamp was burning before the crucifix my crucifix on a background of black velvet the setting was charming and very clever and beautiful I took the object examined it declared it to be remarkable the foreigner also examined it but he seemed much more interested in the two women than the crucifix a delicate odor of incense flowers and perfume pervaded the whole house one felt at home there this really was a comfortable home where one could have liked to linger we had returned to the parlor and I delicately broached the subject of the price madem the samarise lowered her eyes asked 50,000 francs then she added if you wish to see it again monsieur I velry seldom go out before three o'clock and I can be found at home every day in the street the stranger asked me for some details about the Baroness whom he had found charming but I did not hear anything more from either of them three months passed by one morning, hardly two weeks ago she came here at about lunchtime and placing a roll of bills in my hand said, my dear you are an angel here are 50,000 francs I am buying your crucifix and I am paying 20,000 francs more for it than the price agreed upon on condition that you always always send your clients to me for it is still for sale read by Roy Schreiber besides Schopenhauer's corpse by Guy de Maupassant this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer LibriVox.org recording by Kalinda besides Schopenhauer's corpse by Guy de Maupassant he was slowly dying as consumptives die I saw him each day about two o'clock sitting beneath the hotel windows on a bench in the promenade looking out on the calm sea he remained for some time without moving in the heat of the sun he was a Mediterranean every now and then he cast a glance at the lofty mountains with the clouded summits that shut in Menton then with a very slow movement he would cross his long legs so thin that they seemed like two bones around which flooded the cloth of his trousers and he would open a book always the same book and then he did not stir anymore he sat on read on with his eye and his mind all his wasting body seemed to read all his soul plunged lost disappeared in this book up to the hour when the cool air made him cough a little then he got up and re-entered the hotel he was a tall German with fair beard who breakfasted and dined in his own room and spoke to nobody one day I sat down by his side having taken up a book too to keep up appearances a volume of Musée's poems and I began to look through Vrola suddenly my neighbor said to me in good French do you know German, monsieur? not at all, monsieur I am sorry for that since chance has thrown us side by side I could have lent you shown you an inestimable thing this book which I hold in my hand what is it, pray? it is a copy of my master Schopenhauer annotated with his own hand all the margins as you may see are covered with his own handwriting I took the book from him reverently and I gazed at these forms incomprehensible to me but which revealed the immortal thoughts of the greatest shatterer of dreams that I had ever dwelled on earth and Musée's verses arose in my memory hast thou found out Voltaire that it is bliss to die and does thy hideous smile over thy bleached bones fly and involuntarily I compared the childish sarcasm the religious sarcasm of Voltaire with the irresistible irony of the German philosopher whose influence is henceforth ineffacable and let us be indignant or let us be enthusiastic Schopenhauer has marked humanity with the seal of his disdain and of his disenchantment a disabused pleasure seeker he overthrew beliefs, hopes poetic ideals and chimeras destroyed the aspirations ravaged the confidence of souls killed love, dragged down the chivalrous worship of women crushed the illusions of hearts and accomplished the most gigantic task he spared nothing with his mocking spirit and exhausted everything and even today those who execrate him seem to carry in their own souls particles of his thought so then you were intimately acquainted with Schopenhauer I said to the German he smiled sadly up to the time of his death, monsieur and he spoke to me about the philosopher and told me about the almost supernatural impression a strange being made on all who came near him he gave me an account of the interview of the old iconoclast with a French politician a doctrinaire republican who wanted to get a glimpse of this man and found him in a noisy tavern seated in the midst of his disciples dry, wrinkled laughing with an unforgettable laugh attacking and tearing to pieces ideas and beliefs with a single word as a dog tears with one bite of his teeth the tissues with which he plays he repeated for me the comment of this Frenchman as he went away astonished and terrified I thought I had spent an hour with the devil then he added he had indeed, monsieur a frightful smile which terrified us even after his death I can tell you an anecdote about it that is not generally known if it would interest you and he began in a languid voice with two outfits of coughing Schopenhauer had just died and it was arranged that we should watch in turn, two by two till morning he was lying in a large apartment very simple, vast and gloomy two wax candles were burning on the stand by the bedside it was midnight when I went on watch together with one of our comrades the two friends whom we replaced had left the apartment and sat down at the foot of the bed the face was not changed it was laughing that pucker which we knew so well lingered still around the corners of the lips and it seemed to us that he was about to open his eyes to move and to speak his thought, or rather his thoughts enveloped us we felt ourselves more than ever in the atmosphere of his genius absorbed, possessed by him his domination seemed to be more and now that he was dead a feeling of mystery was blended with the power of this incomparable spirit the bodies of these men disappear but they themselves remain and in the night which follows the cessation of their heart's pulsation I assure you, monsieur, they are terrifying and in hushed tones we talked about him recalling to mind certain sayings certain formulas of his those startling maxims of flame flung in a few words into the darkness of the unknown life it seems to me that he is going to speak said my comrade and we stared with uneasiness bordering on fear at the motionless face with its eternal laugh gradually we began to feel ill at ease oppressed on the point of fainting I faltered I don't know what is the matter with me but I assure you I am not well and at that moment we noticed that there was an unpleasant odor from the corpse then my comrade suggested that we should go into the adjoining room and leave the door open and I assented to his proposal I took one of the wax candles which burned on the stand and I left the second behind then we went and sat down at the other end of the adjoining apartment in such a position that we could see the bed and the corpse clearly revealed by the light that he still held possession of us one would have said that his immaterial essence liberated, free all powerful and dominating was flitting around us and sometimes too that the dreadful odor of the decomposed body came toward us and penetrated us sickening and indefinable suddenly a shiver passed through our bones a sound a slight sound came from the death chamber immediately we fixed our glances on him we saw, yes, monsieur, we saw distinctly both of us something white pass across the bed fall on the carpet and vanish under an armchair we were on our feet before we had time to think of anything distracted by stupefying terror ready to run away then we stared at each other we were horribly pale our hearts throbbed fiercely enough to have raised the clothing on our chests I was the first to speak did you see? yes, I saw can it be that he is not dead? why, when the body is putrefying? what are we to do? my companion said in a hesitating tone we must go and look I took our wax candle and entered first glancing into all the dark corners in the large apartment nothing was moving now and I approached the bed but I stood transfixed with stupor and fright no longer laughing he was grinning in a horrible fashion with his lips pressed together and deep hollows in his cheeks I stammered out he's not dead but the terrible odor ascended to my nose and stifled me and I no longer moved but kept staring fixedly at him terrified as if in the presence of an apparition then my companion having seized the other wax candle bent forward next he touched my arm without uttering a word I followed his glance and saw on the ground under the armchair by the side of the bed standing out white on the dark carpet and open as if to bite Schopenhauer's set of artificial teeth the work of decomposition loosening the jaws had made it jump out of the mouth I was really frightened that day, monsieur and as the sun was sinking toward the glittering sea the consumptive German rose from his seat gave me a parting bow and retired into the hotel end of Beside Schopenhauer's corpse recording by Kalinda in Lüneburg, Germany on March 10th, 2009 The Box of Robbers by L. Frank Baum No one intended to leave Martha alone that afternoon but it happened that everyone was called away for one reason or another Mrs. McFarland was attending the weekly card party held by the woman's anti-gambling league Sister Nell's young man had called quite unexpectedly to take her for a long drive Papa was at the office as usual it was Marianne's day out As for Emeline she certainly should have stayed in the house without the little girl but Emeline had a restless nature Would you mind, Miss Far, just cross the alley to speak of what to Mrs. Carlson's girl she asked Martha Course not, replied the child you'd better lock the back door though and take the key, for I shall be upstairs I'll do that, of course, Miss said the delight it made and ran away to spend the afternoon with her friend leaving Martha quite alone in the big house and locked in the little girl read a few pages in her new book sewed a few stitches in her embroidery and started to play visiting with her four favorite dolls then she remembered that in the attic was a doll's playhouse that hadn't been used for months so she decided she had dusted and put it in order filled with this idea the girl climbed the winding stairs to the big room under the roof it was well lighted by three dormer windows and was warm and pleasant around the walls were rows of boxes and trunks, piles of old carpeting pieces of damaged furniture bundles of discarded clothing and other odds and ends of more or less value every well-regulated house has an attic of this sort so I need not describe it the doll's house had been moved but after a search Martha found it away over in a corner near the big chimney she drew it out and noticed that behind it was a black wooden chest which Uncle Waltersen over from Italy years and years ago in fact Mama had told her about it one day how there was no key to it because Uncle Walter wished it to remain unopened until he returned home and how this wandering uncle who was a mighty hunter had gone into Africa to hunt elephants and had never been heard from afterwards the little girl looked at the chest curiously now that had by accident attracted her attention it was quite big bigger even than Mama's traveling trunk and was studded all over with tarnished brass-headed nails it was heavy too for Martha tried to lift one end of it she found she could not stir it a bit but there was a place on the side of the cover for a key she stooped to examine the lock and saw that it would take a rather big key to open it then as you may suspect little girl longed to open Uncle Walter's big box and see what was in it for we are all curious and little girls are just as curious as the rest of us I don't believe Uncle Walter ever come back she thought Papa said once a some elephant must have killed him if I only had a key she stopped and clapped her little hands together gaily as she remembered a big basket of keys on the shelf in the linen closet they were of all sorts in sizes perhaps one of them would unlock the mysterious chest she flew down the stairs found the basket and returned with it to the attic then she sat down before the brass-headed box and began trying one key after another curious old lock some were too large but most were too small one would go into the lock but would not turn another stuck so fast that she feared for a time that she would never get it out again but at last when the basket was almost empty an oddly shaped ancient brass key slid easily into the lock with a cry of joy Martha turned the key with both hands then she heard a sharp click and the next moment the heavy lid flew up of its own accord a little girl leaned over the edge of the chest an instant and the sight that met her eyes caused her to start back in amazement slowly and carefully a man unpacked himself from the chest stepped out upon the floor stretched his limbs and then took off his hat and bowed politely to the astonished child he was tall and thin and his face seemed badly tanned or sunburnt then another man emerged from the chest yawning and rubbing his eyes like a sleepy schoolboy he was of middle size his skin seemed as badly tanned as that of the first when Martha stared open mouth at the remarkable sight a third man called from the chest he had the same complexion as his fellows but was short and fat all three were dressed in a curious manner there were short jackets of red velvet braided with gold and knee breeches of sky blue satin with silver buttons over the stockings were lace wide ribbons of red and yellow and blue while their hats had broad rims with high peaked crowns from which fluttered yards of bright colored ribbons they had big gold rings in their ears and rows of knives and pistols in their belts their eyes were black and glittering and they wore long fierce mustaches curling at the ends like a pig's tail my but you were heavy exclaimed the fat one when he had pulled down his velvet jacket and brushed the dust from the sky blue breeches and you squeezed me all out of shape it was unavoidable Luigi responded the thin man lightly the little the chest pressed me down upon you yet I tender you mine regrets as for me said the middle sized man carelessly rolling a cigarette and lighting it you must acknowledge I have been your nearest friend for years so do not be disagreeable you mustn't smoke in the attic said Martha recovering herself outside of the cigarette you might set the house on fire the middle sized man who had not noticed her before at this speech turned to the girl and bowed since the lady requested said he I shall abandon my cigarette and he threw it on the floor and extinguished it with his foot who are you? asked Martha who until now had been too astonished to be frightened permit us to introduce ourselves so the thin man flourishing his hat gracefully this is Lugui the fat man nodded and this is Beanie the middle sized man bowed and I am Victor we are three bandits Italian bandits cried Martha with a look of horror exactly perhaps in all the world there are not three other bandits so terrible and fierce as ourselves said Victor proudly to so said the fat man nodding gravely but it's wicked exclaimed Martha yes indeed replied Victor we are extremely and tremendously wicked perhaps in all the world you could not find three men more wicked than those who now stand before you to so said the fat man approvingly but you shouldn't be so wicked said the girl it's it's Naughty Victor cast down his eyes and blushed Naughty guessed Beanie with the horrified look to the hard words said Lugui sadly and buried his face in his hands a little thought remembered Victor in a voice broken by emotion ever to be so reviled and by a lady yet perhaps you spoke thoughtlessly you must consider miss that our wickedness has an excuse for how are we to be bandits let me ask unless we are wicked Martha was puzzled and shook her head thoughtfully then she remembered something you can't remain bandits any longer said she because you are now in America America cried the three together certainly you're on Prairie Avenue in Chicago Uncle Walter sent you here from Italy in this chest the bandits seemed greatly bewildered by this announcement Lugui sat down on an old chair with a broken rocker and wiped his forehead with a yellow silk handkerchief Beanie and Victor fell back upon the chest and looked at her with pale faces and staring eyes when he had somewhat recovered himself Victor spoke your uncle Walter has greatly wronged us he said reproachfully he has taken us from our beloved Italy where bandits are highly respected and brought us to a strange country where we shall not know whom to rob or how much to ask for ransom who said the fat man slapping his legs sharply and we had won such fine reputations in Italy said Beanie regretfully perhaps Uncle Walter wanted to reform you suggested Martha are there then no bandits in Chicago? asked Victor well implied the girl blushing in her turn we do not call them bandits then what shall we do for a living inquired Beanie despairingly a great deal can be done in a big American city said the child's my father is a lawyer the bandits shuttered and my mother's cousin is a police inspector ah said Victor that is a good employment the police need to be inspected especially in Italy everywhere added Beanie then you could do other things continued Martha encouragingly you could be motormen on trolley cars or clerks in a department store some people even become altermen to earn a living the bandits shook their heads sadly we are not fitted for such work said Victor our business is to rob Martha tried to think it is rather hard to get positions in the gas office she said but you might become politicians no cried Beanie with sudden fierceness we must not abandon our high calling bandits we have always been and bandits we must remain to so agreed the fat man even in Chicago many people to rob remarked Victor with cheerfulness Martha was distressed I think they have all been robbed she objected then we can rob the robbers for we have experience and talent beyond the ordinary said Beanie oh dear oh dear moan the girl why did Uncle Walter ever send you here in this chest the bandits became entrusted that is what we should like to know declared Victor eagerly but no one will ever know for Uncle Walter was lost while hunting elephants in Africa she continued with conviction then we must accept our fate and rob to the best of our ability said Victor so long as we are faithful to our beloved profession we need not be ashamed to so cried the fat man brothers we will begin now let us rob the house we are in good childhood the others and sprang to their feet Beanie turned threateningly upon the child remain here he commanded if you stir one step your blood will be on your own head then he added in a gentler voice don't be afraid that's the way all bandits talk to their captives but of course we wouldn't hurt a young lady under any circumstances of course not said Victor the fat man drew a big knife from his belt and flourished it about his head so blued he ejaculated fiercely so bananas cried Beanie in a terrible voice confusing to our foes Victor and then the three bitten themselves nearly double and crept stealthily down the stairway with cocked pistols in their hands and glittering knives between their teeth leaving Martha trembling with fear and too horrified to even cry for help how long she remained alone in the attic she never knew but finally she heard the cat-like tread of the returning bandits and saw them coming up the stairs in single file all bore heavy loads of plunder in their arms and Lugli was balancing a mince pie on the top of a pile of her mother's best evening dresses Victor came next with an armful of bric-a-brac a brass candelabra and the parlor clock Beanie had the family bible the basket of silverware from the sideboard a copper kettle and pop-bus fur overcoat oh joy! said Victor putting down his load it is pleasant to rob once more oh, ecstasy! said Beanie but he let the kettle drop on his toe and immediately began dancing around in anguish while he muttered queer words in the Italian language we have much wealth continued Victor holding the mince pie while Lugli added his spoils to the heap and all from one house this America must be a rich place with a dagger he then cut himself a piece of the pie and handed the remainder to his comrades whereupon all three set upon the floor and consumed the pie while Martha looked on sadly we should have a cave, remarked Beanie for we must store our plunder in a safe place can you tell us of a secret cave? he asked Martha there's a mammoth cave, she answered but it's in Kentucky you would be obliged to ride on the cars a long way to get there the three bandits looked thoughtful and munched their pie silently but the next moment they were startled by the ringing of the electric doorbell which was heard plainly even in the remote attic what's that? demanded Victor and a hoarse voice as the streets scrambled to their feet with drawn daggers the man in the window and thought was only the postman who had dropped a letter in the box and gone away again but the incident gave her an idea of how to get rid of her troublesome bandits so she began wringing her hands as if in great distress and cried out it's the police the robbers looked at one another with genuine alarm and Lugli asked her millingly are there many of them? and 112 explained Martha after pretending to count them then we are lost, declared Beanie for we could never fight so many and live are they armed? inquired Victor who was shivering as if called oh yes suchy they have guns and swords and pistols axes and and and what? demanded Lugli and cannons the three wicked ones groaned aloud and Beanie said in a hollow voice I hope they will kill us quickly and not put us to the torture I have been told these Americans are painted Indians who are bloodthirsty and terrible to so the fat man with the shutter suddenly Martha turned from the window you are my friends are you not she asked we are devoted and said Victor we adore you cried Beanie we would die for you added Lugli thinking he was about to die anyway then I will save you said the girl how? asked the three with one voice get back into the chest she said I will then close the lid so they will be unable to find you they looked around the room in a daze in a resolute way but she exclaimed you must be quick they will soon be here to arrest you then Lugli sprang into the chest and lay flat upon the bottom Beanie tumbled a next and packed himself into the back side Victor followed after pausing to kiss her hand in a graceful manner then Martha ran up depressed on the lid but could not make a catch you must squeeze down she said to them Lugli groaned I am doing my best miss said Victor but although we fitted in very nicely before the chest now seems rather small for us to so came the muffled voice of the fat man from the bottom I know what takes up the room said Beanie what? inquired Victor anxiously the pie returned Beanie to so came from the bottom and faint accents then Martha set upon the lid and pressed it down with all her weight to her great delight the lock caught and springing down she exerted all her strength and turned the key this story she teaches not to interfere in matters that do not concern us for had Martha refrained from opening Uncle Walter's mysterious chest she would not have been obliged to carry downstairs all the plunder the robbers had brought into the attic End of The Box of Robbers by L. Frank Baum Recording by Bethany Baldwin Brothers by Sherwood Anderson This is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Alanna Jordan Brothers by Sherwood Anderson from The Bookman I am at my house in the country and it is late October It rains Back of my house is a forest and in front there is a road and beyond that open fields the country is one of low hills flattening suddenly into plains some 20 miles away across the flat country lies the huge city Chicago On this rainy day the leaves of the trees that line the road before my window are falling like rain the yellow, red and golden leaves fall straight down heavily the rain beats them and they are brutally down they are denied a last golden flash across the sky in October leaves should be carried away out over the plains in a wind they should go dancing away Yesterday morning I arose at daybreak and went for a walk there was a heavy fog and I lost myself in it I went down into the plains and returned to the hills and everywhere the fog was a wall before me out of it trees sprang suddenly grotesquely as in a city street late at night people come suddenly out of the darkness into the circle of light under a street lamp above there was the light of day forcing itself slowly into the fog the fog moved slowly the tops of trees moved slowly under the trees the fog was dense purple it was like smoke lying in the streets of a factory town an old man came up to me in the fog I know him well the people here call him insane he's a little crack they say he lives alone in a little house buried deep in the forest and has a small dog he carries always in his arms on many mornings I have met him walking on the road and he has told me of men and women who were his brothers and sisters his cousins, aunts, uncles, brothers and law the emotion has possession of him he cannot draw close to people near at hand so he gets hold of a name out of a newspaper and his mind plays with it one morning he told me he was a cousin to the man named Cox who at the time when I write is a candidate for the presidency on another morning he told me that Caruso the singer had married a woman who was a sister in law as my wife's sister he said holding the little dog closely his gray watery eyes looked appealingly up to me he wanted me to believe my wife was a sweet slim girl he declared we lived together in a big house and in the morning walked about arm in arm now her sister has married Caruso the singer he is of my family now as someone had told me the old man had never been married and he had gone away wondering one morning in early September I came upon him sitting under a tree beside a path near his house the dog barked at me and then ran and crept into his arms at that time the Chicago newspapers were filled with the story of a millionaire who had gotten into trouble with his wife because of an intimacy with an actress the old man told me the actress was a sister he is 60 years old and the actress whose story appeared in the newspapers is 20 but he spoke of their childhood together you would not realize it to see us now but we were poor then he said it's true we lived in a little house on the side of a hill once there was a storm and the wind nearly swept our house away how the wind blew our father was a carpenter and he built strong houses for other people but our own house was not built very strongly he shook his head sorrowfully my sister the actress has got into trouble our house is not built very strongly he said as I went away along the path for a month two months the Chicago newspapers that are delivered every morning in our village have been filled with the story of a murder a man there has murdered his wife and there seems no reason for the deed the tale runs something like this the man who is now on trial in the courts and will no doubt be hanged worked in a bicycle factory where he was a foreman and he lived with his wife and his wife's mother in an apartment in 32nd street he loved a girl who worked in the office of the factory where he was employed she came from a town in Iowa and when she first came to the city lived with her aunt who has since died to the foreman a heavy, stolid looking man with gray eyes she seemed the most beautiful woman in the world her desk was by a window and an angle of the factory a sort of wing of the building and the foreman down in the shop had a desk by another window he sat at his desk making out sheets containing the record of the work done by each man in his department when he looked up he could see the girl sitting at work at her desk the notion got into his head that she was peculiarly lovely he did not think of trying to draw close to her or of winning her love he looked at her as one might look at a star or across a country of low hills in October when the leaves of the trees are all red and yellow gold she is a pure virginal thing he thought vaguely what can she be thinking about as she sits there by the window at work in fancy the foreman took the girl from Iowa home with him to his apartment in 32nd street and into the presence of his wife and his mother-in-law all day in the shop and during the evening at home he carried her figure about with him in his mind as he stood by a window in his apartment and looked out toward the Illinois Central Railroad tracks and beyond the tracks to the lake the girl was there beside him down below women walked in the street and in every woman he saw there was something of the Iowa girl one woman walked as she did another made a gesture with her hand that reminded of her all the women he saw except only his wife and his mother-in-law were like the girl he had taken inside himself the two women in his own house puzzled and confused him they became suddenly unlovely and commonplace his wife in particular was like some strange unlovely growth that had attached itself to his body in the evening after the day at the factory he went home to his own place and had dinner he had always been a silent man and when he did not talk no one minded after dinner he with his wife went to a picture show when they came home his wife's mother sat under an electric light reading there were two children and his wife expected another they came into the apartment and sat down the climb up two flights of stairs had wearied his wife she sat in a chair beside her mother groaning with weariness the mother-in-law was the soul of goodness she took the place of a servant in the home and got no pay when her daughter wanted to go to a picture show she waved her hand and smiled go on she said I don't want to go I'd rather sit here she got a book and sat reading the little boy of nine awoke and cried he wanted to sit on the popo the mother-in-law attended to that after the man and his wife came home the three people sat in silence for an hour or two before bedtime the man pretended to read a newspaper he looked at his hands although we had washed them carefully grease from the bicycle frames left dark stains under the nails he thought of the Iowa girl and of her white quick hands playing over the keys of a typewriter he felt dirty and uncomfortable the girl at the factory knew that the foreman had fallen in love with her and the thought excited her a little since her aunt's death she had gone to live in a rooming house and had nothing to do in the evening although the foreman meant nothing to her she couldn't a way use him to her he became a symbol sometimes he came into the office and stood for a moment by the door his large hands were covered with black grease she looked at him without seeing in his place in her imagination stood a tall slender young man of the foreman she saw only the gray eyes that began to burn with a strange fire the eyes expressed eagerness a humble and devout eagerness in the presence of a man with such eyes she felt she need not be afraid she wanted a lover who would come to her with such a look in his eyes occasionally perhaps once in two weeks she stayed a little late at the office pretending to have work that must be finished through the window she could see the foreman waiting when everyone had gone she closed her desk and went into the street at the same moment the foreman came out the factory door they walked together along the street a half dozen blocks to where she got aboard her car the factory was in a place called Chicago and as they went along evening was coming on the streets were lined with small unpainted frame houses and dirty-faced children ran screaming in the dusty roadway they crossed over a bridge to abandoned coal barges lay rotting in the stream he went along by her side walking heavily striving to conceal his hands he had scrubbed them carefully before leaving the factory but they seemed to him like heavy dirty pieces of waste matter hanging on his side they're walking together happened but a few times and during one summer it's hot he said he never spoke to her of anything but the weather it's hot he said I think it may rain she dreamed of the lover who would sometime come a tall, fair young man and lands the working man who walked beside her had nothing to do with her conception of love she walked with him stayed at the office until the others had gone to walk unobserved with him because of his eyes because of the eager thing in his eyes that was at the same time humble that bowed down to her in his presence there was no danger he would never attempt to approach closely to touch her with his hands she was safe with him in his apartment in the evening the man sat under the electric light with his wife and his mother-in-law in the next room his two children were asleep in a short time his wife would have another child he had been withered to a picture show and presently they would get into bed together he would lie awake thinking the creaking of the springs of a bed from where in another room his mother-in-law was crawling under the sheets life was too intimate he would lie awake eager, expectant expecting what? nothing presently one of the children would cry it wanted to get out of bed and sit on the popo nothing strange or unusual or lovely would happen life was too close intimate nothing that could happen in the apartment could in any way stir him the things his wife might say her occasional half hearted outburst of passion the goodness of his stout mother-in-law who did the work of a servant without pay he sat in the apartment under the electric light pretending to read a newspaper he looked at his hands they were large shapeless a working man's hands the figure of the girl from Iowa walked about the room with her he went out of the apartment and walked in silence through miles of streets it was not necessary to say words he walked with her by a sea along the crest of a mountain the night was clear and silent the stars shone she was also a star it was not necessary to say words her eyes were like stars and her lips were like the soft hills rising out of dim starlit plains she is unattainable she is far off like the stars he thought she is unattainable like the stars but unlike the stars she breathes myself she has being one evening some six weeks ago the man who worked as foreman in the bicycle factory killed his wife and he is now in the courts being tried for murder every day the newspapers are filled with a story on the evening of the murder he had taken his wife as usual to a picture show and they started home at nine in 32nd street at a corner near their apartment building the figure of a man darted subtly out of an alleyway and then darted back again that incident may have put the idea of killing his wife into the man's head they got to the entrance to the apartment building and stepped into a dark hallway then quite suddenly and apparently without thought the man took a knife out of his pocket suppose that man who darted into the alleyway had intended to kill us he thought opening the knife he whirled about and struck his wife he struck twice a dozen times madly there was a scream and his wife's body fell the janitor had neglected to light the gas in the lower hallway afterward the foreman decided that was the reason he did it that and the fact that the dark slinking figure of a man darted out of an alleyway and then darted back again surely he told himself I could never have done it had the gas been lighted he stood in the hallway thinking his wife was dead and with her had died her unborn child there was a sound of doors opening in the apartments above for several minutes nothing happened his wife and her unborn child were dead that was all he ran upstairs thinking quickly in the darkness on the lower stairway he had put the knife back into his pocket and as it turned out later there was no blood on his hands or on his clothes the knife he later washed carefully in the bathroom when the excitement had died down a little he told everyone the same story there has been a hold up he explained a man came slinking out of an alleyway and followed me and my wife home he followed us into the hallway of the building and there was no light the janitor had neglected to light the gas well there had been a struggle and in the darkness his wife had been killed he could not tell how it had happened there was no light the janitor had neglected to light the gas he kept saying for a day or two they did not question him specially and he had time to get rid of the knife he took a long walk and threw it away into the river in south chicago where the two abandoned coal barges lay rotting under the bridge the bridge he had crossed went on the summer evenings he walked to the streetcar with the girl who was virginal and pure who was far off and unattainable like a star and yet not like a star and then he was arrested and right away he confessed told everything he said he did not know why he had killed his wife and was careful to say nothing of the girl at the office the newspapers tried to discover the motive for the crime they are still trying someone had seen him on the few evenings when he walked with the girl and she was dragged into the affair and had her picture printed in the paper that has been annoying for her and of course she has been able to prove she had nothing to do with the man yesterday morning a heavy fog lay over our village here at the edge of the city and I went for a long walk in the early morning as I returned out of the lowlands into our hill country I met the old man whose family has so many and such strange ramifications for a time he walked beside me holding the little dog in his arms it was cold and the dog was blind and shivered in the fog the old man's face was indistinct it moved slowly back and forth with the fog banks of the upper air and with the tops of trees he spoke of the man who has killed his wife and whose name is being shouted in the pages of the city newspapers that come to our village each morning as he walked beside me he launched into a long tale concerning a life he and his brother who had now become a murderer had once lived together he is my brother he said over and over shaking his head he seemed afraid I would not believe there was a fact that must be established we were boys together that man and I he began again you see we played together in a barn back of our father's house our father went away to see in a ship where names became confused you understand that we have different names but we are brothers we had the same father we played together in a barn back of our father's house all day we lay together in the hay in the barn and it was warm there in the fog the slender body of the old man became like a gnarled tree then it became a thing suspended in air it swung back and forth looking on the gallows the face beseeched me to believe the story the lips were trying to tell in my mind everything concerning the relationship of men and women became confused a model the spirit of man who had killed his wife came into the body of the little old man there by the roadside it was striving to tell me the story it would never be able to tell in the courtroom in the city in the presence of the judge the whole story of mankind's loneliness of the effort to reach out to unattainable beauty tried to get itself expressed from the lips of a mumbling old man crazed with loneliness who stood by the side of a country road on a foggy morning holding a little dog in his arms the arms of the old man held the dog so closely that it began to whine with pain a sort of convulsion shook his body the soul seemed striving to wrench itself out of the body to fly away through the fog down across the plain to the city to the singer the politician the millionaire the murderer to its brothers, cousins, sisters down in the city the intensity of the old man's desire was terrible and in sympathy his arms tightened about the body of the little dog so that it screamed with pain I stepped forward and tore the arms away and the dog fell to the ground and lay whining no doubt it had been injured perhaps ribs had been crushed the old man stared at the dog lying at his feet as in the hallway of the apartment building the worker from the bicycle factory had stared at his dead wife we are brothers, he said again we have different names but we are brothers our father you understand went off to sea I am sitting in my house in the country and it rains before my eyes the hills fall suddenly away and there are flat plains and beyond the plains the city an hour ago the old man of the house in the forest went past my door and the little dog was not with him it may be that as we talked in the fog he crushed the life out of his companion it may be that the dog like the workman's wife and her unborn child is now dead the leaves of the trees that line the road before my window are falling like rain the yellow, red and golden leaves fall straight down heavily the rain beats them brutally down they are denied a last golden flash across the sky in October leaves should be carried away out over the plains in a wind they should go dancing away End of Brothers by Sherwood Anderson Recording by Helena Jordan The How the Prince Saw America by Susan Glassbell They began work at 7.30 and at 10 minutes past 8 every hammer stopped in the Senate chamber and in the house on the stairways and in the corridors in every office from the governors to the custodians they laid down their implements and rose to their feet a long whistle had sounded through the building there was magic in its note what's the matter with you fellows asked the Attorney General swinging around in his chair strike declared one of the men with becoming brevity strike of what? Carpet Tackers Union Number 1 replied the man kindly gathering up a few tax never heard of it organized last night said the Carpet Tacker putting on his coat well out he paused expressively then inquired what's your game well you see boss this executive council that runs the Senate House has refused our demands what are your demands double pay double pay now how do you figure it out that you ought to have double pay rush work you see we were under oath I'm pretty near that to get every Carpet in the state house down by 4 o'clock this afternoon now you know yourself that rush work is hard on the nerves did you ever get rush work done at a laundry and not pay more for it we was anxious about it to get the capital in shape for the big show this afternoon but there's reason in all things yes agreed his auditor there is the man looked at him a little downfully our president we elected Johnny McGuire president last night went to the governor this morning with our demands the governor's fellow official smiled he knew the governor pretty well and he turned you down the striker nodded there's an election next fall maybe the turning down will be turned around maybe so you never can tell I don't know just what power Carpet Tigers union number one will will but the governor's pretty solid you know with labor as a whole that was true and went home the striker rubbed his foot and certainly across the floor and took courage from its splinters well there's one thing sure when Prince Ludwig and his train load of big guns show up at four o'clock this afternoon they'll find bare floors and pretty burn bare floors on deck at this place the attorney general rubbed his own foot across the splintered miserable boards they are pretty burn he reflected I wonder he added as the man was halfway out of the door what Prince Ludwig will think of the American working man when he arrives this afternoon just about as much retorted the knot to be downed Carpet Tacker as he does about American generosity and he may think a few things he added weightily about American independence oh he sure to do that agreed the attorney general he joined the crowd in the corridor they were swarming out from all the offices all talking of the one thing it was a straight case of hold up declared the governor's secretary they suppose they had us on the hip they were getting extra money as it was but you see they just figured it out we'd pay anything rather than have these wretched floors for the reception this afternoon they thought the governor would argue the question and then give in or at any rate compromise they never intended for one minute that the Prince should find bare floors here and I rather think he concluded that they feel a little done up about it themselves what's the situation asked a stranger within the gates it's like this in his paper report he told him about a month ago there was a fire here and the walls and carpets were pretty well knocked out with smoke and water carpets were mean old things anyway so they voted new ones and I want to tell you he's swelled with pride that the new ones are beauties the place will look great when we get them down well you know Prince Ludwig and his crowd across the state on their way to the coast and of course they were invited to stop last week Billy Patton he's running the whole show declined the invitation on account of lack of time and then yesterday comes telegram saying the Prince himself insisted on stopping you know he's keen about Italian dope and we've got Indian traditions to burn so Mr. Bill Patton had to make over his schedule to please the Prince and of course we were all pretty tickled about it so more reasons than one the telegram didn't come until five o'clock yesterday afternoon but you know what a hummer the governor is when he gets a start he made up his mind this building should be put in shape within 24 hours they engaged a whole lot of fellas to work on the carpets today and what did they do but get together last night well you know the rest pretty burn looking old shat just now isn't it and the reporter looked around ruthlessly it was approaching the hour for the legislature to convene the members who were beginning to saunter in swell the crowd and the indignation in the rotunda the governor meanwhile had been trying to get other men but carpet tackers union number one had looked well to that the biggest furniture dealer in the city was afraid of the plumbers pipes first last night he said and they may not do a thing for us if we get mixed up in this sorry but I can't let my customers get pneumonia another furniture man was afraid of the teamsters for one reason or another no one was disposed to respond to the Macedonian cry when the governor at last gave it up and walked out into the rotunda he was about as disturbed as he could himself to get it's the idea of lying down he said I do anything and anything if I could only think what to do a popular young member of the house ever heard the remark by George governor he burst forth after minutes deep study say by jove I say let's do it ourselves they all laughed but the governor's laughed out suddenly he laughed hard at the young man why not the young legislator went on it's a big job there are a lot of us we've all put down carpets at home what are we afraid to tackle it here for again the others laughed the governor did not say weston he said I'd give a lot I tell you I'd give a lot if we just could leave it to me the governor's eyes the governor's eyes followed him he'd always liked harry weston he was a very sort to inspire people to do things the governor smiled knowingly as he noted the men weston was approaching and his different manner with the various ones and then he had mounted a few steps the stairway and was standing there facing the crowd now look here he began after silence had been obtained this isn't a very formal meeting but it's a mighty important one it's a clear case of carpet tackers union against the state what I want to know is is the state going to lie down there were loud cries of no well I should say not well then see here the governor's tried for other men and can't get them now the next thing I want to know is what's the matter with us they didn't get it for a minute and then everybody laughed it's no joke you've all put down carpets at home what's the use of pretending you don't know how to do it oh yes I know bigger building and all that but there are more of us and the principle of carpet attacking is the same big building a little one now my scheme is this every fellow his own carpet hacker the governor's office puts down the governor's carpet the secretary's office puts down the secretary's carpet the senate puts down the senate carpet and we'll look after our little patch in the house but you got more fellows than anybody else quite a member of the senate right you are we'll have an overflowing meeting in the corridors and stairways the house as usual stands ready to do her part that brought a laugh for the senators and from them now get it out of your heads this is a joke the carpets are here the building is full of able bodied men the prince is coming at four by his own request and the proposition is just this are we going to receive him in a barn or in a palace let's hear what senator arnold thinks about it well that was a good way of getting away from the idea of it's being a joke senator arnold passed seventy slowly he extended his right arm and tested his muscle not very much he said but enough to drive a tack or two that brought applause and they drew closer together and the atmosphere warmed perceptively I fought for the state more ways than once senator arnold was a distinguished veteran of the civil war and if I can serve her now by tacking down carpets then it's tacking down carpets I'm ready to go at just count on me for what little I'm worth someone started the cry for the governor prince Ludwig is being entertained all over the country in the most lavish manner he began with his characteristic directness in stating a situation by his own request he is to visit our capital this afternoon I must say that I for one want to be in shape for him I don't like to tell him that we had a labor complication and couldn't get the carpets down speaking for myself it is a great pleasure to inform you that the carpet and the governor's office will be in proper shape by four o'clock this afternoon that settled it finally harry weston made himself heard sufficiently to suggest that when the house and senate met at nine o'clock motions to adjourn be entertained and as to the rest of you fellows he cried I don't see what's to hinder your getting busy right now there were republicans and there were democrats there were friends and there were enemies there were good bad and no there were no indifferent an unprecedented harmony of thought a millennium like unity of action was born out of that sturdy cry every man his own carpet hacker the secretary of state always claimed that he drove the first tack during the remainder of his life the superintendent of public construction also contended hotly for that honor the rivalry as to who would do the best job and get it done most quickly became intense early in the day harry weston made the rounds of the building and announced a fine of $100 for every wrinkle there were pounded fingers and there were broken backs but slowly steadily and good naturedly the state house carpet was going down it was a good deal bigger job than they had anticipated but that only added zest to the undertaking the news of how the state officials were employing themselves had spread throughout the city and guards were stationed at every door to keep out people whose presence would work more harm than good all assistance from women was courteously refused this is solemn business of the governor in response to a telephone from some of the fair sex and the introduction of the feminine element might throw about it a social atmosphere which would result in loss of time and then some of the boys might feel called upon to put on their collars and coats stretch stretch stretch all morning long it went on but the state house was large very large there should have been a possible there to get the good things for the novelty of the situation inspired wit even in minds where wit had never glowed before choice bits which at other times would fairly have gone on official record were now passed almost unnoticed so great was the surfeit instead of men going out to lunch lunch came into them Bridget Hagerty who by reason of her long connection with the boarding house across the street was a sort of unofficial official of the state came over the coffee and sandwiches all the while calling down blessings on the head of every mother's son of them and announcing in loud firm tones that while all five of her boys belonged to the union she'd be after telling them what she thought of this day's work it was a united state senator who did the awful trick and to be fair the senator did not think of it as an awful trick at all he came over there in the middle of the morning to see the governor and in a few hurried words it was no day for conversation was told what was going on it was while standing out in the corridor watching the perspiring dignitaries that the idea of his duty came to him and one reason he was sure he was right was the way in which it came to him in the light of a duty here was America an undress uniform here was not a thing arranged for show but absolutely the thing itself Prince Ludwig had come with a sincere desire to see America everyone knew that he was not seeing it at all he would go back with memories of bands and flags and people all dressed up standing before him making polite speeches but would he carry back one small riff on the spirit of the country again Senator Brunner looked about him the speaker of the house was just beginning laying the stair carpet a judge of the Supreme Court was contending hotly for a better hammer it's an insult to expect any decent man to drive tax for the hammer like this he was saying here were men real live men men with individuality spirit when the Prince had come so far wasn't it too bad that he should not see anything but uniforms and cut glass and dress suits and other externals and non-essentials Senator Brunner was a kind man he was a good fellow he was hospitable, patriotic he decided now in favor of the Prince he had to hurry about it for it was almost 12 then one of the Vice Presidents and he was taken into confidence and proved an able and eager ally they located the special train bearing the Prince in order to stop the next station the stop was made that Senator Patton might receive a long telegram from Senator Brunner I figure it like this the Senator told the Vice President they get to Bowden at a quarter of one and were going to stop there an hour were going to stop a little while at Cravel I've told Patton the situation and that if he wants to do the right thing by the Prince he'll cut out those steps and rush right through here and we'll bring him in well they could make it at a quarter of two I've told him I'd square it with Bowden and Cravel oh he'll do it alright and even as he said so came the reply from Patton too good to miss will rush through arrive before two have carriage at Water Street that's great cried the Senator trust Billy Patton for falling in with a good thing and he's right about missing the station crowd Patton can always go you one better he admitted grinningly they had luncheon together and they were a good deal more like sophomores in college than like state senator and a big railroad man you don't think there's any danger they're getting through too soon they kept asking anxiously not I bet the senator assured him they can't possibly make it before three will come in just in time for the final skirmish it's going to be a jolly rush at the last they laid their plans a skill worthy of their training state library building was across from the capitol and they were connected by tunnel I never saw before said the senator what that tunnel was for but I see now what a great thing it is we'll get him in at the west door of the library we can drive right up to it you know and then we walk him through the tunnel that's a stone floor the senator was chuckling with every sentence so I guess they won't be carpeting it running up from the tunnel and say we must telephone over and arrange about those keys they'll be a good deal of climbing but the prince is a good fellow and won't mind wouldn't be safe to try the elevator for harry weston would be in it taking somebody a bundle of tax the third floor is nothing but store rooms will not be disturbed up there and we can look right down the rotunda and see the whole show of course we'll be discovered in time someone is sure to look up and see us but we'll fix it so they won't see us before we've had our fun and it strikes me make bay that for two old fellows like you and me we put the thing through in pretty neat shape it was a very small and unpretentious party which set from the special at water street a little before too the prince was wearing a long coat and an automobile cap did not suggest anything at all formidable or unusual you've saved the country senator patin whispered in an aside he was getting bored never saw a fella jolly up so in my life guess he was just sprawling for some fun said it would be really worthwhile to see somebody who wasn't looking for him senator bruner beamed well that's just the point he's caught my idea exactly it went without a hitch I feel said the prince as they were hurrying him through the tunnel but I am a little boy who's run away from school only I have a terrible fear that at any minute some band may begin to play and somebody may think of making a speech they gave the son of a royal house a seat on a dry goods box so place that he could command a good view and yet be fairly secure the final skirmish was on in earnest two state senators coatless tireless collarless their faces dirty their hair rumbled we're finishing the stair carpet the chairman of the appropriations committee in the house is doing stretching and a still uncarpeted bit of the corridor and a member who had recently denounced the appropriations committee as a disgrace to the state was presiding at the hammer they were doing most exquisitely harmonious teamwork a railroad and anti railroad member who fought every time they came within speaking distance of one another were now in an earnest and very chummy conference relative to a large wrinkle which had just been discovered on the first landing many men were standing around holding their backs and many others were deeply absorbed in nursing their fingers the doors of the offices were all open there was a general hauling in furniture and hanging of pictures clumsy but well-meaning fingers were doing their best with finishing touches the prince grew so excited about it all that they had to keep urging him not to take too many chances of being seen and I'll tell you senator bruner was saying it isn't only because I knew it would be funny that I wanted you to see it well you see America isn't the real America when she has on her best clothes and is trying to show off you haven't seen anybody who hasn't prepared for your coming and that means you haven't seen them as they are at all now here we are this is us you see that fellow hanging a picture down there he's president of the first national bank came over a little while ago got next to the situation and stayed to help and say this is good notice that redheaded fellow just getting up on his knees well he's president of the master's union figured so big in a strike here last year I call that pretty rich he's the fellow they are also afraid of but I guess he liked the idea of the boys doing it themselves and just sneaked in and helped there's the governor he's a fine fellow he wouldn't be held up by anybody not even to get ready for a prince but he's worked like a trojan all day to make things come his way yes sir this is the sure enough thing here you have the boys off dress parade not that we run away from our dignity every day but see what I mean I see replied the prince and he looked as though he really did you know say dodged there move back no too late the governor's caught us look at him the governor's eyes had turned upward and he had seen he put his hands on his back he couldn't look up without doing that and gave a long steady stare first senator bruner waved then senator patten waved then mr. mcvey waved and then the prince waved other people were beginning to look up they're all on laugh patten let's go down at first they were disposed to think a pretty shabby treatment we worked all day to get in shape grumbled harry weston and then you go wing the curtain up on us before it's time for our show to begin but the prince made them feel right about it he had such a good time that they were forced to concede the move had been a success and he said to the governor as he was leaving I see that the only way to see america is to see it when america is not seeing you end of how the prince saw america by susan glassbell this recording is in the public domain