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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/23015-h.zip b/23015-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..53b4368 --- /dev/null +++ b/23015-h.zip diff --git a/23015-h/23015-h.htm b/23015-h/23015-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4d9438 --- /dev/null +++ b/23015-h/23015-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1259 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="us-ascii"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + 'Run to Seed', by Thomas Nelson Page + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of "Run To Seed", by Thomas Nelson Page + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: "Run To Seed" + 1891 + +Author: Thomas Nelson Page + +Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23015] +Last Updated: January 9, 2013 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "RUN TO SEED" *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <div style="height: 8em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h1> + "RUN TO SEED." + </h1> + <h2> + By Thomas Nelson Page <br /> <br /> 1891 + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> II. </a> + </p> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + Jim's father died at Gettysburg; up against the Stone Fence; went to + heaven in a chariot of fire on that fateful day when the issue between the + two parts of the country was decided: when the slaughter on the + Confe'd-erate side was such that after the battle a lieutenant was in + charge of a regiment, and a major commanded a brigade. + </p> + <p> + This fact was much to Jim, though no one knew it: it tempered his mind: + ruled his life. He never remembered the time when he did not know the + story his mother, in her worn black dress and with her pale face, used to + tell him of the bullet-dented sword and faded red sash which hung on the + chamber wall. + </p> + <p> + They were the poorest people in the neighborhood. Everybody was poor; for + the county lay in the track of the armies, and the war had swept the + country as clean as a floor. But the Uptons were the poorest even in that + community. Others recuperated, pulled themselves together, and began after + a time to get up. The Uptons got flatter than they were before. The fences + (the few that were left) rotted; the fields grew up in sassafras and + pines; the barns blew down; the houses decayed; the ditches filled; the + chills came. + </p> + <p> + "They're the shiftlesses' people in the worl'," said Mrs. Wagoner with a + shade of asperity in her voice (or was it satisfaction?). Mrs. Wagoner's + husband had been in a bombproof during the war, when Jim Upton (Jim's + father) was with his company. He had managed to keep his teams from the + quartermasters, and had turned up after the war the richest man in the + neighborhood. He lived on old Colonel Duval's place, which he had bought + for Confederate money. + </p> + <p> + "They're the shiftlesses' people in the worl'," said Mrs. Wagoner. "Mrs. + Upton ain't got any spirit: she jus' sets still and cries her eyes out." + </p> + <p> + This was true, every word of it. And so was something else that Mrs. + Wagoner said in a tone of reprobation, about "people who made their beds + having to lay on them"; this process of incubation being too well known to + require further discussion. + </p> + <p> + But what could Mrs. Upton do? She could not change the course of Destiny. + One—especially if she is a widow with bad eyes, and in feeble + health, living on the poorest place in the State—cannot stop the + stars in their courses. She could not blot out the past, nor undo what she + had done. She would not if she could. She could not undo what she had done + when she ran away with Jim and married him. She would not if she could. At + least, the memory of those three years was hers, and nothing could take it + from her—not debts, nor courts, nor anything. She knew he was wild + when she married him. Certainly Mrs. Wagoner had been careful enough to + tell her so, and to tell every one else so too. She would never forget the + things she had said. Mrs. Wagoner never forgot the things the young girl + said either—though it was more the way she had looked than what she + had said. And when Mrs. Wagoner descanted on the poverty of the Uptons she + used to end with the declaration: "Well, it ain't any fault of <i>mine</i>: + she can't blame <i>me</i>, for Heaven knows I warned her: I did <i>my</i> + duty!" Which was true. Warning others was a duty Mrs. Wagoner seldom + omitted. Mrs. Upton never thought of blaming her, or any one else. Not all + her poverty ever drew one complaint from her sad lips. She simply sat down + under it, that was all. She did not expect anything else. She had given + her Jim to the South as gladly as any woman ever gave her heart to her + love. She would not undo it if she could—not even to have him back, + and God knew how much she wanted him. Was not his death glorious—his + name a heritage for his son? She could not undo the debts which encumbered + the land; nor the interest which swallowed it up; nor the suit which took + it from her—that is, all but the old house and the two poor worn old + fields which were her dower. She would have given up those too if it had + not been for her children, Jim and Kitty, and for the little old enclosure + on the hill under the big thorn-trees where they had laid him when they + brought him back in the broken pine box from Gettysburg. No, she could not + undo the past, nor alter the present, nor change the future. So what could + she do? + </p> + <p> + In her heart Mrs. Wagoner was glad of the poverty of the Uptons; not + merely glad in the general negative way which warms the bosoms of most of + us as we consider how much better off we are than our neighbors—the + "Lord-I-thank-thee-that-I-am-not-as-other-men-are" way;—but Mrs. + Wagoner was glad positively. She was glad that any of the Uptons and the + Duvals were poor. One of her grandfathers had been what Mrs. Wagoner (when + she mentioned the matter at all) called "Manager" for one of the Duvals. + She was aware that most people did not accept that term. She remembered + old Colonel Duval—the <i>old</i> Colonel—tall, thin, white, + grave. She had been dreadfully afraid of him. She had had a feeling of + satisfaction at his funeral. It was like the feeling she had when she + learned that Colonel Duval had not forgiven Betty nor left her a cent. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wagoner used to go to see Mrs. Upton—she went frequently. It + was "her duty" she said. She carried her things—especially advice. + There are people whose visits are like spells of illness. It took Mrs. + Upton a fortnight to get over one of these visits—to convalesce. + Mrs. Wagoner was "a mother to her": at least, Mrs. Wagoner herself said + so. In some respects it was rather akin to the substance of that name + which forms in vinegar. It was hard to swallow: it galled. Even Mrs. + Upton's gentleness was overtaxed—and rebelled. She had stood all the + homilies—all the advice. But when Mrs. Wagoner, with her lips drawn + in, after wringing her heart, recalled to her the warning she had given + her before she married, she stopped standing it. She did not say much; but + it was enough to make Mrs. Wagoner's stiff bonnet-bows tremble. Mrs. + Wagoner walked out feeling chills down her spine, as if Colonel Duval were + at her heels. She had "meant to talk about sending Jim to school": at + least she said so. She condoled with every one in the neighborhood on the + "wretched ignorance" in which Jim was growing up, "working like a common + negro." She called him "that ugly boy." + </p> + <p> + Jim was ugly—Mrs. Wagoner said, very ugly. He was slim, red-headed, + freckle-faced, weak-eyed; he stooped and he stammered. Yet there was + something about him, with his thin features, which made one look twice. + Mrs. Wagoner used to say she did not know where that boy got all his + ugliness from, for she must admit his father was rather good-looking + before he became so bloated, and Betty Duval would have been "passable" if + she had had any "vivacity." There were people who said Betty Duval had + been a beauty. She was careful in her limitations, Mrs. Wagoner was. Some + women will not admit others are pretty, no matter what the difference in + their ages: they feel as if they were making admissions against + themselves. + </p> + <p> + Once when Jim was a boy Mrs. Wagoner had the good taste to refer in his + presence to his "homeliness," a term with which she sugar-coated her + insult. Jim grinned and shuffled his feet, and then said, "Kitty's + pretty." It was true: Kitty was pretty: she had eyes and hair. You could + not look at her without seeing them—big brown eyes, and brown + tumbled hair. Kitty was fifteen—two years younger than Jim in 187-. + </p> + <p> + Jim never went to school. They were too poor. All he knew his mother + taught him and he got out of the few old books in the book-case left by + the war,—odd volumes of the Waverley novels, and the <i>Spectator</i>, + "Don Quixote," and a few others, stained and battered. He could not have + gone to school if there had been a school to go to: he had to work: work, + as Mrs. Wagoner had truthfully said, "like a common nigger." He did not + mind it; a bird born in a cage cannot mind it much. The pitiful part is, + it does not know anything else. Jim did not know anything else. He did not + mind anything much—except chills. He even got used to them; would + just lie down and shake for an hour and then go to ploughing again as soon + as the ague was over, with the fever on him. He had to plough; for corn + was necessary. He had this compensation: he was worshipped by two people—his + mother and Kitty. If other people thought him ugly, they thought him + beautiful. If others thought him dull, they thought him wonderfully + clever; if others thought him ignorant, they knew how wise he was. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Upton's eyes were bad; but she saw enough to see Jim: the light came + into the house with him; Kitty sat and gazed at him with speechless + admiration; hung on his words, which were few; watched for his smile, + which was rare. He repaid it to her by being—Jim. He slaved for her; + waited for her (when a boy waits for his little sister it is something); + played with her when he had time. + </p> + <p> + They always went to church—old St. Ann's—whenever there was + service. There was service there since the war only every first and third + Sunday and every other fifth Sunday. The Uptons and the Duvals had been + vestrymen from the time they had brought the bricks over from England, + generations ago. They had sat, one family in one of the front semicircular + pews on one side the chancel, the other family in the other. Mrs. Upton, + after the war, had her choice of the pews; for all had gone but herself, + Jim, and Kitty. She had changed, the Sunday after her marriage, to the + Upton side, and she clung loyally to it ever after. Mrs. Wagoner had taken + the other pew—a cold, she explained at first, had made her deaf. She + always spoke of it afterward as "our pew." (The Billings, from which Mrs. + Wagoner came, had not been Episcopalians until Mrs. Wagoner married.) + Carry Wagoner, who was a year older than Kitty, used to sit by her mother, + with her big hat and brown hair. Jim, in right of his sex, sat in the end + of his pew. + </p> + <p> + On this Sunday in question Jim drove his mother and Kitty to church in the + horse cart. + </p> + <p> + The old carriage was a wreck, slowly dropping to pieces. The chickens + roosted in it. The cart was the only vehicle remaining which had two sound + wheels, and even one of these "wabbled" a good deal, and the cart was + "shackling." But straw placed in the bottom made it fairly comfortable. + Jim always had clean straw in it for his mother and sister. His mother and + Kitty remarked on it. Kitty looked so well. They reached church. The day + was warm, Mr. Bickersteth was dry. Jim went to sleep during the sermon. He + frequently did this. He had been up since four. When service was over he + partially waked—about half-waked. He was standing in the aisle + moving toward the door with the rest of the congregation. A voice behind + him caught his ear: + </p> + <p> + "What a lovely girl Kitty Upton is." It was Mrs. Harrison, who lived at + the other end of the parish. Jim knew the voice. Another voice replied: + </p> + <p> + "If she only were not always so shabby!" Jim knew this voice also. It was + Mrs. Wagoner's. Jim waked. + </p> + <p> + "Yes, but even her old darned dress cannot hide her. She reminds me of + ———" Jim did not know what it was to which Mrs. Harrison + likened her. But he knew it was something beautiful. + </p> + <p> + "Yes," said Mrs. Wagoner; then added, "Poor thing, she's got no education, + and never will have. To think that old Colonel Duval's fam'bly's come to + this! Well, they can't blame me. They're clean run to seed." + </p> + <p> + Jim got out into the air. He felt sick. He had been hit vitally. This was + what people thought! and it was true. They were "clean run to seed." He + went to get his cart. (He did not speak to Kitty.) His home came before + his eyes like a photograph: fences down, gates gone, houses ruinous, + fields barren. It came to him as if stamped on the retina by a + lightning-flash. He had worked—worked hard. But it was no use. It + was true: they were "clean run to seed." He helped his mother and Kitty + into the cart silently—doggedly. Kitty smiled at him. It hurt him + like a blow. He saw every worn place, every darn in her old dress, and + little, faded jacket. Mrs. Wagoner drove past them in her carriage, + leaning out of the window and calling that she took the liberty of passing + as she drove faster than they. Jim gave his old mule a jerk which made him + throw up his head and wince with pain. He was sorry for it. But he had + been jerked up short himself. He was quivering too. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + On the following Friday the President of one of the great railway lines + which cross Virginia was in his office when the door opened after a gentle + knock and some one entered. (The offices of presidents of railroads had + not then become the secret and mysterious sanctums which they have since + become.) The President was busily engaged with two or three of the + Directors, wealthy capitalists from the North, who had come down on + important business. He was very much engrossed; and he did not look up + immediately. When he did so he saw standing inside the door a queer + figure,—long, slim, angular,—a man who looked like a boy, or a + boy who looked like a man—red-headed, freckled-faced, bashful,—in + a coat too tight even for his thin figure, breeches too short for his long + legs; his hat was old and brown; his shirt was clean. + </p> + <p> + "Well, what do you want?" The President was busy. + </p> + <p> + It was Jim. His face twitched several times before any sound came: + </p> + <p> + "—I-w-w-w want t-t-t-to ge-get a place." + </p> + <p> + "This is not the place to get it. I have no place for you." + </p> + <p> + The President turned back to his friends. At the end of ten minutes, + seeing one of his visitors look toward the door, he stopped in the middle + of a sentence and glanced around. + </p> + <p> + The figure was still there—motionless. The President thought he had + been out and come back. He had not. + </p> + <p> + "Well?" His key was high. + </p> + <p> + "————-I-I-w-w-want to-to get a place." + </p> + <p> + "I told you I had no place for you. Go to the Superintendent." + </p> + <p> + "———<i>I</i> i've b-b-b-been to him." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what did he say?" + </p> + <p> + "S-s-s-says he ain't got any place." + </p> + <p> + "Well, I haven't any. Go to Mr. Blake." + </p> + <p> + "———Iv'e b-been to <i>him</i>. + </p> + <p> + "Well, go to—to—" The President was looking for a paper. It + occupied his mind. + </p> + <p> + He did not think any further of Jim. But Jim was there. + </p> + <p> + "—Go-go where?" + </p> + <p> + "Oh, I don't know—go anywhere—go out of <i>here</i>." + </p> + <p> + Jim's face worked. He turned and went slowly out. As he reached the door + he said: + </p> + <p> + "Go-go-good-evening g-gentlemen." + </p> + <p> + The President's heart relented: "Go to the Superintendent," he called. + </p> + <p> + Next day he was engaged with his Directors when the door opened and the + same apparition stepped within—tall, slim, red-haired, with his + little tight coat, short trousers, and clean shirt. + </p> + <p> + The President frowned. + </p> + <p> + "Well, what is it?" + </p> + <p> + "— —I-I-I w-w-w-went to-to the S-S-Superintendent." + </p> + <p> + "Well, what about it?" + </p> + <p> + "Y-y-you told me to-to go-go to him. H-e-e ain't got any place." The + Directors smiled. One of them leaned back in his chair, took out a cigar + and prepared to cut the end. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I can't help it. I haven't anything for you. I told you that + yesterday. You must not come here bothering me; get out." + </p> + <p> + Jim stood perfectly still—perfectly motionless. He looked as if he + had been there always—would be there always. The Director with the + cigar, having cut it, took out a gold match-box, and opened it slowly, + looking at Jim with an amused smile. The President frowned and opened his + mouth to order him out. He changed his mind. + </p> + <p> + "What is your name?" + </p> + <p> + "J-J-James Upton." + </p> + <p> + "Where from?" + </p> + <p> + Jim told him. + </p> + <p> + "Whose son are you?" + </p> + <p> + "C-C-C-Captain J-J-James Upton's." + </p> + <p> + "What! You don't look much like him!" + </p> + <p> + Jim shuffled one foot. One corner of his mouth twitched up curiously. It + might have been a smile. He looked straight at the blank wall before him. + </p> + <p> + "You are not much like your mother either—I used to know her as a + girl. How's that?" + </p> + <p> + Jim shuffled the other foot a little. + </p> + <p> + "R-r-run to seed, I reckon." + </p> + <p> + The President was a farmer—prided himself on it. The reply pleased + him. He touched a bell. A clerk entered. + </p> + <p> + "Ask Mr. Wake to come here." + </p> + <p> + "Can you carry a barrel of flour?" he asked Jim. + </p> + <p> + "I-I'll get it there," said Jim. He leaned a little forward. His eyes + opened. + </p> + <p> + "Or a sack of salt? They are right heavy." + </p> + <p> + "I-I-I'll get it there," said Jim. His form straightened. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wake appeared. + </p> + <p> + "Write Mr. Day to give this man a place as brakeman." + </p> + <p> + "Yes, sir. Come this way." This to Jim. + </p> + <p> + Jim electrified them all by suddenly bursting out crying. + </p> + <p> + The tension had given way. He walked up to the wall and leaned his head + against it with his face on his arm, shaking from head to foot, sobbing + aloud. + </p> + <p> + "Thank you, I—I'm ever so much obliged to you," he sobbed. + </p> + <p> + The President rose and walked rapidly about the room. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Jim turned and, with his arm over his eyes, held out his hand to + the President. + </p> + <p> + "Good-by." Then he went out. + </p> + <p> + There was a curious smile on the faces of the Directors as the door + closed. + </p> + <p> + "Well, I never saw anything like that before," said one of them. The + President said nothing. + </p> + <p> + "Run to seed," quoted the oldest of the Directors, "rather good + expression!" + </p> + <p> + "Damned good seed, gentlemen," said the President, a little shortly. + "Duval and Upton.—That fellow's father was in my command. Died at + Gettysburg. He'd fight hell." + </p> + <p> + Jim got a place—brakeman on a freight-train. + </p> + <p> + That night Jim wrote a letter home. You'd have thought he had been elected + President. + </p> + <p> + It was a hard life: harder than most. The work was hard; the fare was + hard; the life was hard. Standing on top of rattling cars as they rushed + along in the night around curves, over bridges, through tunnels, with the + rain and snow pelting in your face, and the tops as slippery as ice. There + was excitement about it, too: a sense of risk and danger. Jim did not mind + it much. He thought of his mother and Kitty. + </p> + <p> + There was a freemasonry among the men. All knew each other; hated or liked + each other; nothing negative about it. + </p> + <p> + It was a bad road. Worse than the average. Twice the amount of traffic was + done on the single track that should have been done. Result was men were + ground up—more than on most roads. More men were killed in + proportion to the number employed than were killed in service during the + war. The <i>esprit de corps</i> was strong. Men stood by their trains and + by each other. When a man left his engine in sight of trouble, the + authorities might not know about it, but the men did. Unless there was + cause he had to leave. Sam Wray left his engine in sight of a broken + bridge after he reversed. The engine stopped on the track. The officers + never knew of it; but Wray and his fireman both changed to another road. + When a man even got shaky and began to run easy, the superintendent might + not mind it; but the men did: he had to go. A man had to have not only + courage but nerve. + </p> + <p> + Jim was not especially popular among men. He was reserved, slow, awkward. + He was "pious" (that is, did not swear). He was "stuck up" (did not tell + "funny things," by which was meant vulgar stories; nor laugh at them + either). And according to Dick Rail, he was "stingy as h—l." + </p> + <p> + These things were not calculated to make him popular, and he was not. He + was a sort of butt for the free and easy men who lived in their cabs and + cabooses, obeyed their "orders," and owned nothing but their overalls and + their shiny Sunday clothes. He was good-tempered, though. Took all their + gibes and "dev'ling" quietly, and for the most part silently. So, few + actually disliked him. Dick Rail, the engineer of his crew, was one of + those few. Dick "dee-spised" him. Dick was big, brawny, coarse: coarse in + looks, coarse in talk, coarse every way, and when he had liquor in him he + was mean. Jim "bothered" him, he said. He made Jim's life a burden to him. + He laid himself out to do it. It became his occupation. He thought about + it when Jim was not present; laid plans for it. There was something about + Jim that was different from most others. When Jim did not laugh at a "hard + story," but just sat still, some men would stop; Dick always told another + harder yet, and called attention to Jim's looks. His stock was + inexhaustible. His mind was like a spring which ran muddy water; its flow + was perpetual. The men thought Jim did not mind. He lost three pounds; + which for a man who was six feet (and would have been six feet two if he + had been straight) and who weighed 122, was considerable. + </p> + <p> + It is astonishing how one man can create a public sentiment. One woman can + ruin a reputation as effectually as a churchful. One bullet can kill a man + as dead as a bushel, if it hits him right. So Dick Rail injured Jim. For + Dick was an authority. He swore the biggest oaths, wore the largest + watch-chain, knew his engine better and sat it steadier than any man on + the road. He had had a passenger train again and again, but he was too + fond of whiskey. It was too risky. Dick affected Jim's standing: told + stories about him: made his life a burden to him. "He shan't stay on the + road," he used to say. + </p> + <p> + "He's stingier'n ———! Carries his victuals about with + him—I b'lieve he sleeps with one o' them Italians in a goods box." + This was true—at least, about carrying his food with him. (The rest + was Dick's humor.) Messing cost too much. The first two months' pay went + to settle an old guano-bill; but the third month's pay was Jim's. The day + he drew that he fattened a good deal. At least, he looked so. It was + eighty-two dollars (for Jim ran extra runs;—made double time + whenever he could). Jim had never had so much money in his life; had + hardly ever seen it. He walked about the streets that night till nearly + midnight, feeling the wad of notes in his breast-pocket. Next day a box + went down the country, and a letter with it, and that night Jim could not + have bought a chew of tobacco. The next letter he got from home was heavy. + Jim smiled over it a good deal, and cried a little too. He wondered how + Kitty looked in her new dress, and if the barrel of flour made good bread; + and if his mother's shawl was warm. + </p> + <p> + One day he was changed to the passenger service, the express. It was a + promotion, paid more, and relieved him from Dick Rail. + </p> + <p> + He had some queer experiences being ordered around, but he swallowed them + all. He had not been there three weeks when Mrs. Wagoner was a passenger + on the train. Carry was with her. They had moved to town. (Mr. Wagoner was + interested in railroad development.) Mrs. Wagoner called him to her seat, + and talked to him—in a loud voice. Mrs. Wagoner had a loud voice. + </p> + <p> + It had the "carrying" quality. She did not shake hands; Carry did and said + she was so glad to see him: she had been down home the week before—had + seen his mother and Kitty. Mrs. Wagoner said, "We still keep our + plantation as a country place." Carry said Kitty looked so well; her new + dress was lovely. Mrs. Wagoner said his mother's eyes were worse. She and + Kitty had walked over to see them, to show Kitty's new dress. She had + promised that Mr. Wagoner would do what he could for him (Jim) on the + road. Next month Jim went back to the freight service. He preferred Dick + Rail to Mrs. Wagoner. He got him. Dick was worse than ever, his appetite + was whetted by abstinence; he returned to his attack with renewed zest. He + never tired—never flagged. He was perpetual: he was remorseless. He + made Jim's life a wilderness. Jim said nothing, just slouched along + silenter than ever, quieter than ever, closer than ever. He took to going + on Sunday to another church than the one he had attended, a more + fashionable one than that. The Wagoners went there. Jim sat far back in + the gallery, very far back, where he could just see the top of Carry's + head, her big hat and her face, and could not see Mrs. Wagoner, who sat + nearer the gallery. It had a curious effect on him: he never went to sleep + there. He took to going up-town walking by the stores—looking in at + the windows of tailors and clothiers. Once he actually went into a shop + and asked the price of a new suit of clothes. (He needed them badly.) The + tailor unfolded many rolls of cloth and talked volubly: talked him dizzy. + Jim looked wistfully at them, rubbed his hand over them softly, felt the + money in his pocket; and came out. He said he thought he might come in + again. Next day he did not have the money. Kitty wrote him she could not + leave home to go to school on their mother's account, but she would buy + books, and she was learning; she would learn fast, her mother was teaching + her; and he was the best brother in the world, the whole world; and they + had a secret, but he must wait. + </p> + <p> + One day Jim got a big bundle from down the country. It was a new suit of + clothes. On top was a letter from Kitty. This was the secret. She and her + mother had sent for the cloth and had made them; they hoped they would + fit. They had cried over them. Jim cried a little too. He put them on. + They did not fit, were much too large. Under Dick Rail's fire Jim had + grown even thinner than before. But he wore them to church. He felt that + it would have been untrue to his mother and Kitty not to wear them. He was + sorry to meet Dick Rail on the street. Dick had on a black broadcloth + coat, a velvet vest, and large-checked trousers. Dick looked Jim over. Jim + winced, flushed a little: he was not so sunburned now. Dick saw it. Next + week Dick caught Jim in a crowd in the "yard" waiting for their train. He + told about the meeting. He made a double shot. He said, "Boys, Jim's in + love, he's got new clothes! you ought to see 'em!" Dick was graphic; he + wound up: "They hung on him like breechin' on his old mule. By ——! + I b'lieve he was too ——— stingy to buy 'em and made 'em + himself." There was a shout from the crowd. Jim's face worked. He jumped + for him. There was a handspike lying near and he seized it. Some one + grabbed him, but he shook him off as if he had been a child. Why he did + not kill Dick no one ever knew. He meant to do it. + </p> + <p> + For some time they thought he was dead. He laid off for over a month. + After that Jim wore what clothes he chose: no one ever troubled him. + </p> + <p> + So he went on in the same way: slow, sleepy, stuttering, thin, stingy, + ill-dressed, lame. + </p> + <p> + He was made a fireman; preferred it to being a conductor, it led to being + an engineer, which paid more. He ran extra trips whenever he could, up and + double straight back. He could stand an immense amount of work. If he got + sleepy he put tobacco in his eyes to keep them open. It was bad for the + eyes, but waked him up. Kitty was going to take music next year, and that + cost money. He had not been home for several months, but was going at + Christmas. + </p> + <p> + They did not have any sight tests then. But the new Directory meant to be + thorough. Mr. Wagoner had become a Director, had his eye on the + presidency. Jim was one day sent for, and was asked about his eyes. They + were bad. There was not a doubt about it. They were inflamed; he could not + see a hundred yards. He did not tell them about the extra trips and + putting the tobacco in them. Dick Rail must have told about him. They said + he must go. Jim turned white. He went to his little room, close up under + the roof of a little dingy house in a back street, and sat down in the + dark; thought about his mother and Kitty, and dimly about some one else; + wrote his mother and Kitty a letter; said he was coming home—called + it "a visit"; cried over the letter, but was careful not to cry on it. He + was a real cry-baby—Jim was. + </p> + <p> + "Just run to seed," he said to himself, bitterly, over and over; "just run + to seed." Then he went to sleep. + </p> + <p> + The following day he went down to the railroad. That was the last day. + Next day he would be "off." The train-master saw him and called him. A + special was just going out. The Directors were going over the road in the + officers' car. Dick Rail was the engineer, and his fireman had been taken + sick. Jim must take the place. Jim had a mind not to do it. He hated Dick. + He thought of how he had pursued him. But he heard a voice behind him and + turned. Carry was standing down the platform, talking with some elderly + gentlemen. She had on a travelling cap and ulster. She saw him and came + forward—a step: + </p> + <p> + "How do you do?" she held out her little gloved hand. She was going out + over the road with her father. Jim took off his hat and shook hands with + her. Dick Rail saw him, walked round the other side of the engine, and + tried to take off his hat like that. It was not a success; Dick knew it. + </p> + <p> + Jim went. + </p> + <p> + "Who was that?" one of the elderly gentlemen asked Carry. + </p> + <p> + "An old friend of mine—a gentleman," she said. + </p> + <p> + "Rather run to seed—hey?" the old fellow quoted, without knowing + exactly why; for he only half recognized Jim, if he recognized him at all. + </p> + <p> + They started. + </p> + <p> + It was a bad trip. The weather was bad, the road was bad, the engine bad; + Dick bad;—worse than all. Jim had a bad time: he was to be off when + he got home. What would his mother and Kitty do? + </p> + <p> + Once Carry came (brought by the President) and rode in the engine for a + little while. Jim helped her up and spread his coat for her to sit on, put + his overcoat under her feet; his heart was in it. Dick was sullen, and Jim + had to show her about the engine. When she got down to go back to the car + she thanked him—she "had enjoyed it greatly"—she "would like + to try it again." Jim smiled. He was almost good-looking when he smiled. + </p> + <p> + Dick was meaner than ever after that, sneered at Jim—swore; but Jim + didn't mind it. He was thinking of some one else, and of the rain which + would prevent her coming again. + </p> + <p> + They were on the return trip, and were half-way home when the accident + happened. It was just "good dusk," and it had been raining all night and + all day, and the road was as rotten as mud. The special was behind and was + making up. She had the right of way, and she was flying. She rounded a + curve just above a small "fill," under which was a little stream, nothing + but a mere "branch." In good weather it would never be noticed. The gay + party behind were at dinner. The first thing they knew was the sudden jerk + which came from reversing the engine at full speed, and the grind as the + wheels slid along under the brakes. Then they stopped with a bump which + jerked them out of their seats, set the lamps to swinging, and sent the + things on the table crashing on the floor. No one was hurt, only shaken, + and they crowded out of the car to learn the cause. They found it. The + engine was half buried in wet earth on the other side of the little + washout, with the tender jammed up into the cab. The whole was wrapped in + a dense cloud of escaping steam. The roar was terrific. The big engineer, + bare-headed and covered with mud, and with his face deadly white, was + trying to get down to the engine. Some one was in there. + </p> + <p> + They got him out after a while (but it took some time), and laid him on + the ground, while a mattress was got. It was Jim. + </p> + <p> + Carry had been weeping and praying. She sat down and took his head in her + lap, and with her lace handkerchief wiped his blackened and bleeding face, + and smoothed his wet hair. + </p> + <p> + The newspaper accounts, which are always reflections of what public + sentiment is, or should be, spoke of it—some, as "a providential"—others, + as "a miraculous"—and yet others as "a fortunate" escape on the part + of the President and the Directors of the road, according to the + tendencies, religious or otherwise, of their paragraphists. + </p> + <p> + They mentioned casually that "only one person was hurt—an employee, + name not ascertained." And one or two had some gush about the devotion of + the beautiful young lady, the daughter of one of the directors of the + road, who happened to be on the train, and who, "like a ministering angel, + held the head of the wounded man in her lap after he was taken from the + wreck." A good deal was made of this picture, which was extensively + copied. + </p> + <p> + Dick Rail's account, after he had come back from carrying the broken body + down to the old Upton place in the country, and helping to lay it away in + the old enclosure under the big trees on the hill, was this: + </p> + <p> + "By ——!" he said, when he stood in the yard, with a + solemn-faced group around him, "we were late, and I was just shaking 'em + up. I had been meaner'n hell to Jim all the trip (I didn't know him, and + you all didn't neither), and I was workin' him for all he was worth: I + didn't give him a minute. The sweat was rolling off him, and I was damnin' + him with every shovelful. We was runnin' under orders to make up, and we + was just rounding the curve this side of Ridge Hill, when Jim hollered. He + saw it as he raised up with the shovel in his hand to wipe the sweat off + his face, and he hollered to me, 'My God! Look, Dick! Jump!' + </p> + <p> + "I looked and Hell was right there. He caught the lever and reversed, and + put on the air and sand before I saw it, and then grabbed me, and flung me + clean out of the cab: 'Jump!' he says, as he give me a swing. I jumped, + expectin' of course he was comin' too; and as I lit, I saw him turn and + catch the lever. The old engine was jumpin' nigh off the track. But she + was too near. In she went, and the tender right on her. You may talk about + his eyes bein' bad; but by ——! when he gave me that swing, + they looked to me like coals of fire. When we got him out 'twarn't Jim! He + warn't nothin' but mud and ashes. He warn't quite dead; opened his eyes, + and breathed onct or twict; but I don't think he knew anything, he was so + mashed up. We laid him out on the grass, and that young lady took his head + in her lap and cried over him (she had come and seed him in the engine), + and said she knew his mother and sister down in the country (she used to + live down there); they was gentlefolks; that Jim was all they had. And + when one of them old director-fellows who had been swilling himself behind + there come aroun', with his kid gloves on and his hands in his great-coat + pockets, lookin' down, and sayin' something about, 'Poor fellow, couldn't + he 'a jumped? Why didn't he jump?' I let him have it; I said, 'Yes, and if + it hadn't been for him, you and I'd both been frizzin' in h—l this + minute.' And the President standin' there said to some of them, 'That was + the same young fellow who came into my office to get a place last year + when you were down, and said he had "run to seed." 'But,' he says, + 'Gentlemen, it was d——d good seed!'" + </p> + <p> + How good it was no one knew but two weeping women in a lonely house. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of "Run To Seed", by Thomas Nelson Page + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "RUN TO SEED" *** + +***** This file should be named 23015-h.htm or 23015-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/1/23015/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: "Run To Seed" + 1891 + +Author: Thomas Nelson Page + +Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "RUN TO SEED" *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + + + + +"RUN TO SEED." + +By Thomas Nelson Page + +1891 + + + + +I. + +Jim's father died at Gettysburg; up against the Stone Fence; went to +heaven in a chariot of fire on that fateful day when the issue between +the two parts of the country was decided: when the slaughter on the +Confe'd-erate side was such that after the battle a lieutenant was in +charge of a regiment, and a major commanded a brigade. + +This fact was much to Jim, though no one knew it: it tempered his mind: +ruled his life. He never remembered the time when he did not know the +story his mother, in her worn black dress and with her pale face, used +to tell him of the bullet-dented sword and faded red sash which hung on +the chamber wall. + +They were the poorest people in the neighborhood. Everybody was poor; +for the county lay in the track of the armies, and the war had swept +the country as clean as a floor. But the Uptons were the poorest even +in that community. Others recuperated, pulled themselves together, and +began after a time to get up. The Uptons got flatter than they were +before. The fences (the few that were left) rotted; the fields grew up +in sassafras and pines; the barns blew down; the houses decayed; the +ditches filled; the chills came. + +"They're the shiftlesses' people in the worl'," said Mrs. Wagoner with a +shade of asperity in her voice (or was it satisfaction?). Mrs. Wagoner's +husband had been in a bombproof during the war, when Jim Upton (Jim's +father) was with his company. He had managed to keep his teams from the +quartermasters, and had turned up after the war the richest man in the +neighborhood. He lived on old Colonel Duval's place, which he had bought +for Confederate money. + +"They're the shiftlesses' people in the worl'," said Mrs. Wagoner. "Mrs. +Upton ain't got any spirit: she jus' sets still and cries her eyes out." + +This was true, every word of it. And so was something else that Mrs. +Wagoner said in a tone of reprobation, about "people who made their beds +having to lay on them"; this process of incubation being too well known +to require further discussion. + +But what could Mrs. Upton do? She could not change the course of +Destiny. One--especially if she is a widow with bad eyes, and in feeble +health, living on the poorest place in the State--cannot stop the stars +in their courses. She could not blot out the past, nor undo what she had +done. She would not if she could. She could not undo what she had done +when she ran away with Jim and married him. She would not if she could. +At least, the memory of those three years was hers, and nothing could +take it from her--not debts, nor courts, nor anything. She knew he +was wild when she married him. Certainly Mrs. Wagoner had been careful +enough to tell her so, and to tell every one else so too. She would +never forget the things she had said. Mrs. Wagoner never forgot the +things the young girl said either--though it was more the way she had +looked than what she had said. And when Mrs. Wagoner descanted on the +poverty of the Uptons she used to end with the declaration: "Well, it +ain't any fault of _mine_: she can't blame _me_, for Heaven knows I +warned her: I did _my_ duty!" Which was true. Warning others was a duty +Mrs. Wagoner seldom omitted. Mrs. Upton never thought of blaming her, or +any one else. Not all her poverty ever drew one complaint from her sad +lips. She simply sat down under it, that was all. She did not expect +anything else. She had given her Jim to the South as gladly as any woman +ever gave her heart to her love. She would not undo it if she could--not +even to have him back, and God knew how much she wanted him. Was not his +death glorious--his name a heritage for his son? She could not undo the +debts which encumbered the land; nor the interest which swallowed it up; +nor the suit which took it from her--that is, all but the old house and +the two poor worn old fields which were her dower. She would have given +up those too if it had not been for her children, Jim and Kitty, and +for the little old enclosure on the hill under the big thorn-trees where +they had laid him when they brought him back in the broken pine box from +Gettysburg. No, she could not undo the past, nor alter the present, nor +change the future. So what could she do? + +In her heart Mrs. Wagoner was glad of the poverty of the Uptons; not +merely glad in the general negative way which warms the bosoms of most +of us as we consider how much better off we are than our neighbors--the +"Lord-I-thank-thee-that-I-am-not-as-other-men-are" way;--but Mrs. +Wagoner was glad positively. She was glad that any of the Uptons and +the Duvals were poor. One of her grandfathers had been what Mrs. Wagoner +(when she mentioned the matter at all) called "Manager" for one of the +Duvals. She was aware that most people did not accept that term. She +remembered old Colonel Duval--the _old_ Colonel--tall, thin, white, +grave. She had been dreadfully afraid of him. She had had a feeling of +satisfaction at his funeral. It was like the feeling she had when she +learned that Colonel Duval had not forgiven Betty nor left her a cent. + +Mrs. Wagoner used to go to see Mrs. Upton--she went frequently. It was +"her duty" she said. She carried her things--especially advice. There +are people whose visits are like spells of illness. It took Mrs. Upton +a fortnight to get over one of these visits--to convalesce. Mrs. Wagoner +was "a mother to her": at least, Mrs. Wagoner herself said so. In some +respects it was rather akin to the substance of that name which forms in +vinegar. It was hard to swallow: it galled. Even Mrs. Upton's gentleness +was overtaxed--and rebelled. She had stood all the homilies--all the +advice. But when Mrs. Wagoner, with her lips drawn in, after wringing +her heart, recalled to her the warning she had given her before she +married, she stopped standing it. She did not say much; but it was +enough to make Mrs. Wagoner's stiff bonnet-bows tremble. Mrs. Wagoner +walked out feeling chills down her spine, as if Colonel Duval were at +her heels. She had "meant to talk about sending Jim to school": at least +she said so. She condoled with every one in the neighborhood on the +"wretched ignorance" in which Jim was growing up, "working like a common +negro." She called him "that ugly boy." + +Jim was ugly--Mrs. Wagoner said, very ugly. He was slim, red-headed, +freckle-faced, weak-eyed; he stooped and he stammered. Yet there was +something about him, with his thin features, which made one look twice. +Mrs. Wagoner used to say she did not know where that boy got all his +ugliness from, for she must admit his father was rather good-looking +before he became so bloated, and Betty Duval would have been "passable" +if she had had any "vivacity." There were people who said Betty Duval +had been a beauty. She was careful in her limitations, Mrs. Wagoner +was. Some women will not admit others are pretty, no matter what the +difference in their ages: they feel as if they were making admissions +against themselves. + +Once when Jim was a boy Mrs. Wagoner had the good taste to refer in his +presence to his "homeliness," a term with which she sugar-coated her +insult. Jim grinned and shuffled his feet, and then said, "Kitty's +pretty." It was true: Kitty was pretty: she had eyes and hair. You could +not look at her without seeing them--big brown eyes, and brown tumbled +hair. Kitty was fifteen--two years younger than Jim in 187-. + +Jim never went to school. They were too poor. All he knew his mother +taught him and he got out of the few old books in the book-case left by +the war,--odd volumes of the Waverley novels, and the _Spectator_, "Don +Quixote," and a few others, stained and battered. He could not have gone +to school if there had been a school to go to: he had to work: work, +as Mrs. Wagoner had truthfully said, "like a common nigger." He did not +mind it; a bird born in a cage cannot mind it much. The pitiful part is, +it does not know anything else. Jim did not know anything else. He did +not mind anything much--except chills. He even got used to them; would +just lie down and shake for an hour and then go to ploughing again as +soon as the ague was over, with the fever on him. He had to plough; for +corn was necessary. He had this compensation: he was worshipped by two +people--his mother and Kitty. If other people thought him ugly, they +thought him beautiful. If others thought him dull, they thought him +wonderfully clever; if others thought him ignorant, they knew how wise +he was. + +Mrs. Upton's eyes were bad; but she saw enough to see Jim: the light +came into the house with him; Kitty sat and gazed at him with speechless +admiration; hung on his words, which were few; watched for his smile, +which was rare. He repaid it to her by being--Jim. He slaved for her; +waited for her (when a boy waits for his little sister it is something); +played with her when he had time. + +They always went to church--old St. Ann's--whenever there was service. +There was service there since the war only every first and third +Sunday and every other fifth Sunday. The Uptons and the Duvals had been +vestrymen from the time they had brought the bricks over from +England, generations ago. They had sat, one family in one of the front +semicircular pews on one side the chancel, the other family in the +other. Mrs. Upton, after the war, had her choice of the pews; for all +had gone but herself, Jim, and Kitty. She had changed, the Sunday after +her marriage, to the Upton side, and she clung loyally to it ever after. +Mrs. Wagoner had taken the other pew--a cold, she explained at first, +had made her deaf. She always spoke of it afterward as "our pew." (The +Billings, from which Mrs. Wagoner came, had not been Episcopalians until +Mrs. Wagoner married.) Carry Wagoner, who was a year older than Kitty, +used to sit by her mother, with her big hat and brown hair. Jim, in +right of his sex, sat in the end of his pew. + +On this Sunday in question Jim drove his mother and Kitty to church in +the horse cart. + +The old carriage was a wreck, slowly dropping to pieces. The chickens +roosted in it. The cart was the only vehicle remaining which had two +sound wheels, and even one of these "wabbled" a good deal, and the +cart was "shackling." But straw placed in the bottom made it fairly +comfortable. Jim always had clean straw in it for his mother and sister. +His mother and Kitty remarked on it. Kitty looked so well. They reached +church. The day was warm, Mr. Bickersteth was dry. Jim went to sleep +during the sermon. He frequently did this. He had been up since four. +When service was over he partially waked--about half-waked. He was +standing in the aisle moving toward the door with the rest of the +congregation. A voice behind him caught his ear: + +"What a lovely girl Kitty Upton is." It was Mrs. Harrison, who lived at +the other end of the parish. Jim knew the voice. Another voice replied: + +"If she only were not always so shabby!" Jim knew this voice also. It +was Mrs. Wagoner's. Jim waked. + +"Yes, but even her old darned dress cannot hide her. She reminds me of +------" Jim did not know what it was to which Mrs. Harrison likened her. +But he knew it was something beautiful. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Wagoner; then added, "Poor thing, she's got no +education, and never will have. To think that old Colonel Duval's +fam'bly's come to this! Well, they can't blame me. They're clean run to +seed." + +Jim got out into the air. He felt sick. He had been hit vitally. This +was what people thought! and it was true. They were "clean run to seed." +He went to get his cart. (He did not speak to Kitty.) His home came +before his eyes like a photograph: fences down, gates gone, houses +ruinous, fields barren. It came to him as if stamped on the retina by a +lightning-flash. He had worked--worked hard. But it was no use. It was +true: they were "clean run to seed." He helped his mother and Kitty into +the cart silently--doggedly. Kitty smiled at him. It hurt him like a +blow. He saw every worn place, every darn in her old dress, and little, +faded jacket. Mrs. Wagoner drove past them in her carriage, leaning out +of the window and calling that she took the liberty of passing as she +drove faster than they. Jim gave his old mule a jerk which made him +throw up his head and wince with pain. He was sorry for it. But he had +been jerked up short himself. He was quivering too. + + + + +II. + +On the following Friday the President of one of the great railway lines +which cross Virginia was in his office when the door opened after +a gentle knock and some one entered. (The offices of presidents of +railroads had not then become the secret and mysterious sanctums which +they have since become.) The President was busily engaged with two or +three of the Directors, wealthy capitalists from the North, who had come +down on important business. He was very much engrossed; and he did not +look up immediately. When he did so he saw standing inside the door a +queer figure,--long, slim, angular,--a man who looked like a boy, or a +boy who looked like a man--red-headed, freckled-faced, bashful,--in a +coat too tight even for his thin figure, breeches too short for his long +legs; his hat was old and brown; his shirt was clean. + +"Well, what do you want?" The President was busy. + +It was Jim. His face twitched several times before any sound came: + +"--I-w-w-w want t-t-t-to ge-get a place." + +"This is not the place to get it. I have no place for you." + +The President turned back to his friends. At the end of ten minutes, +seeing one of his visitors look toward the door, he stopped in the +middle of a sentence and glanced around. + +The figure was still there--motionless. The President thought he had +been out and come back. He had not. + +"Well?" His key was high. + +"---------I-I-w-w-want to-to get a place." + +"I told you I had no place for you. Go to the Superintendent." + +"------_I_ i've b-b-b-been to him." + +"Well, what did he say?" + +"S-s-s-says he ain't got any place." + +"Well, I haven't any. Go to Mr. Blake." + +"------Iv'e b-been to _him_. + +"Well, go to--to--" The President was looking for a paper. It occupied +his mind. + +He did not think any further of Jim. But Jim was there. + +"--Go-go where?" + +"Oh, I don't know--go anywhere--go out of _here_." + +Jim's face worked. He turned and went slowly out. As he reached the door +he said: + +"Go-go-good-evening g-gentlemen." + +The President's heart relented: "Go to the Superintendent," he called. + +Next day he was engaged with his Directors when the door opened and the +same apparition stepped within--tall, slim, red-haired, with his little +tight coat, short trousers, and clean shirt. + +The President frowned. + +"Well, what is it?" + +"-- --I-I-I w-w-w-went to-to the S-S-Superintendent." + +"Well, what about it?" + +"Y-y-you told me to-to go-go to him. H-e-e ain't got any place." The +Directors smiled. One of them leaned back in his chair, took out a cigar +and prepared to cut the end. + +"Well, I can't help it. I haven't anything for you. I told you that +yesterday. You must not come here bothering me; get out." + +Jim stood perfectly still--perfectly motionless. He looked as if he had +been there always--would be there always. The Director with the cigar, +having cut it, took out a gold match-box, and opened it slowly, looking +at Jim with an amused smile. The President frowned and opened his mouth +to order him out. He changed his mind. + +"What is your name?" + +"J-J-James Upton." + +"Where from?" + +Jim told him. + +"Whose son are you?" + +"C-C-C-Captain J-J-James Upton's." + +"What! You don't look much like him!" + +Jim shuffled one foot. One corner of his mouth twitched up curiously. +It might have been a smile. He looked straight at the blank wall before +him. + +"You are not much like your mother either--I used to know her as a girl. +How's that?" + +Jim shuffled the other foot a little. + +"R-r-run to seed, I reckon." + +The President was a farmer--prided himself on it. The reply pleased him. +He touched a bell. A clerk entered. + +"Ask Mr. Wake to come here." + +"Can you carry a barrel of flour?" he asked Jim. + +"I-I'll get it there," said Jim. He leaned a little forward. His eyes +opened. + +"Or a sack of salt? They are right heavy." + +"I-I-I'll get it there," said Jim. His form straightened. + +Mr. Wake appeared. + +"Write Mr. Day to give this man a place as brakeman." + +"Yes, sir. Come this way." This to Jim. + +Jim electrified them all by suddenly bursting out crying. + +The tension had given way. He walked up to the wall and leaned his head +against it with his face on his arm, shaking from head to foot, sobbing +aloud. + +"Thank you, I--I'm ever so much obliged to you," he sobbed. + +The President rose and walked rapidly about the room. + +Suddenly Jim turned and, with his arm over his eyes, held out his hand +to the President. + +"Good-by." Then he went out. + +There was a curious smile on the faces of the Directors as the door +closed. + +"Well, I never saw anything like that before," said one of them. The +President said nothing. + +"Run to seed," quoted the oldest of the Directors, "rather good +expression!" + +"Damned good seed, gentlemen," said the President, a little shortly. +"Duval and Upton.--That fellow's father was in my command. Died at +Gettysburg. He'd fight hell." + +Jim got a place--brakeman on a freight-train. + +That night Jim wrote a letter home. You'd have thought he had been +elected President. + +It was a hard life: harder than most. The work was hard; the fare was +hard; the life was hard. Standing on top of rattling cars as they rushed +along in the night around curves, over bridges, through tunnels, with +the rain and snow pelting in your face, and the tops as slippery as ice. +There was excitement about it, too: a sense of risk and danger. Jim did +not mind it much. He thought of his mother and Kitty. + +There was a freemasonry among the men. All knew each other; hated or +liked each other; nothing negative about it. + +It was a bad road. Worse than the average. Twice the amount of traffic +was done on the single track that should have been done. Result was +men were ground up--more than on most roads. More men were killed in +proportion to the number employed than were killed in service during the +war. The _esprit de corps_ was strong. Men stood by their trains and +by each other. When a man left his engine in sight of trouble, the +authorities might not know about it, but the men did. Unless there was +cause he had to leave. Sam Wray left his engine in sight of a broken +bridge after he reversed. The engine stopped on the track. The officers +never knew of it; but Wray and his fireman both changed to another road. +When a man even got shaky and began to run easy, the superintendent +might not mind it; but the men did: he had to go. A man had to have not +only courage but nerve. + +Jim was not especially popular among men. He was reserved, slow, +awkward. He was "pious" (that is, did not swear). He was "stuck up" (did +not tell "funny things," by which was meant vulgar stories; nor laugh at +them either). And according to Dick Rail, he was "stingy as h--l." + +These things were not calculated to make him popular, and he was not. He +was a sort of butt for the free and easy men who lived in their cabs and +cabooses, obeyed their "orders," and owned nothing but their overalls +and their shiny Sunday clothes. He was good-tempered, though. Took all +their gibes and "dev'ling" quietly, and for the most part silently. So, +few actually disliked him. Dick Rail, the engineer of his crew, was +one of those few. Dick "dee-spised" him. Dick was big, brawny, coarse: +coarse in looks, coarse in talk, coarse every way, and when he had +liquor in him he was mean. Jim "bothered" him, he said. He made Jim's +life a burden to him. He laid himself out to do it. It became his +occupation. He thought about it when Jim was not present; laid plans for +it. There was something about Jim that was different from most others. +When Jim did not laugh at a "hard story," but just sat still, some men +would stop; Dick always told another harder yet, and called attention +to Jim's looks. His stock was inexhaustible. His mind was like a spring +which ran muddy water; its flow was perpetual. The men thought Jim did +not mind. He lost three pounds; which for a man who was six feet (and +would have been six feet two if he had been straight) and who weighed +122, was considerable. + +It is astonishing how one man can create a public sentiment. One woman +can ruin a reputation as effectually as a churchful. One bullet can kill +a man as dead as a bushel, if it hits him right. So Dick Rail injured +Jim. For Dick was an authority. He swore the biggest oaths, wore the +largest watch-chain, knew his engine better and sat it steadier than any +man on the road. He had had a passenger train again and again, but he +was too fond of whiskey. It was too risky. Dick affected Jim's standing: +told stories about him: made his life a burden to him. "He shan't stay +on the road," he used to say. + +"He's stingier'n ------! Carries his victuals about with him--I b'lieve +he sleeps with one o' them Italians in a goods box." This was true--at +least, about carrying his food with him. (The rest was Dick's humor.) +Messing cost too much. The first two months' pay went to settle an old +guano-bill; but the third month's pay was Jim's. The day he drew that he +fattened a good deal. At least, he looked so. It was eighty-two dollars +(for Jim ran extra runs;--made double time whenever he could). Jim had +never had so much money in his life; had hardly ever seen it. He walked +about the streets that night till nearly midnight, feeling the wad of +notes in his breast-pocket. Next day a box went down the country, and +a letter with it, and that night Jim could not have bought a chew of +tobacco. The next letter he got from home was heavy. Jim smiled over it +a good deal, and cried a little too. He wondered how Kitty looked in +her new dress, and if the barrel of flour made good bread; and if his +mother's shawl was warm. + +One day he was changed to the passenger service, the express. It was a +promotion, paid more, and relieved him from Dick Rail. + +He had some queer experiences being ordered around, but he swallowed +them all. He had not been there three weeks when Mrs. Wagoner was a +passenger on the train. Carry was with her. They had moved to town. (Mr. +Wagoner was interested in railroad development.) Mrs. Wagoner called him +to her seat, and talked to him--in a loud voice. Mrs. Wagoner had a loud +voice. + +It had the "carrying" quality. She did not shake hands; Carry did +and said she was so glad to see him: she had been down home the week +before--had seen his mother and Kitty. Mrs. Wagoner said, "We still keep +our plantation as a country place." Carry said Kitty looked so well; her +new dress was lovely. Mrs. Wagoner said his mother's eyes were worse. +She and Kitty had walked over to see them, to show Kitty's new dress. +She had promised that Mr. Wagoner would do what he could for him +(Jim) on the road. Next month Jim went back to the freight service. He +preferred Dick Rail to Mrs. Wagoner. He got him. Dick was worse than +ever, his appetite was whetted by abstinence; he returned to his attack +with renewed zest. He never tired--never flagged. He was perpetual: he +was remorseless. He made Jim's life a wilderness. Jim said nothing, just +slouched along silenter than ever, quieter than ever, closer than +ever. He took to going on Sunday to another church than the one he had +attended, a more fashionable one than that. The Wagoners went there. Jim +sat far back in the gallery, very far back, where he could just see the +top of Carry's head, her big hat and her face, and could not see Mrs. +Wagoner, who sat nearer the gallery. It had a curious effect on him: +he never went to sleep there. He took to going up-town walking by the +stores--looking in at the windows of tailors and clothiers. Once he +actually went into a shop and asked the price of a new suit of clothes. +(He needed them badly.) The tailor unfolded many rolls of cloth and +talked volubly: talked him dizzy. Jim looked wistfully at them, rubbed +his hand over them softly, felt the money in his pocket; and came out. +He said he thought he might come in again. Next day he did not have the +money. Kitty wrote him she could not leave home to go to school on their +mother's account, but she would buy books, and she was learning; she +would learn fast, her mother was teaching her; and he was the best +brother in the world, the whole world; and they had a secret, but he +must wait. + +One day Jim got a big bundle from down the country. It was a new suit +of clothes. On top was a letter from Kitty. This was the secret. She +and her mother had sent for the cloth and had made them; they hoped they +would fit. They had cried over them. Jim cried a little too. He put them +on. They did not fit, were much too large. Under Dick Rail's fire Jim +had grown even thinner than before. But he wore them to church. He felt +that it would have been untrue to his mother and Kitty not to wear +them. He was sorry to meet Dick Rail on the street. Dick had on a black +broadcloth coat, a velvet vest, and large-checked trousers. Dick looked +Jim over. Jim winced, flushed a little: he was not so sunburned now. +Dick saw it. Next week Dick caught Jim in a crowd in the "yard" waiting +for their train. He told about the meeting. He made a double shot. He +said, "Boys, Jim's in love, he's got new clothes! you ought to see 'em!" +Dick was graphic; he wound up: "They hung on him like breechin' on his +old mule. By ----! I b'lieve he was too ------ stingy to buy 'em and +made 'em himself." There was a shout from the crowd. Jim's face worked. +He jumped for him. There was a handspike lying near and he seized it. +Some one grabbed him, but he shook him off as if he had been a child. +Why he did not kill Dick no one ever knew. He meant to do it. + +For some time they thought he was dead. He laid off for over a month. +After that Jim wore what clothes he chose: no one ever troubled him. + +So he went on in the same way: slow, sleepy, stuttering, thin, stingy, +ill-dressed, lame. + +He was made a fireman; preferred it to being a conductor, it led to +being an engineer, which paid more. He ran extra trips whenever he +could, up and double straight back. He could stand an immense amount of +work. If he got sleepy he put tobacco in his eyes to keep them open. It +was bad for the eyes, but waked him up. Kitty was going to take music +next year, and that cost money. He had not been home for several months, +but was going at Christmas. + +They did not have any sight tests then. But the new Directory meant +to be thorough. Mr. Wagoner had become a Director, had his eye on the +presidency. Jim was one day sent for, and was asked about his eyes. They +were bad. There was not a doubt about it. They were inflamed; he could +not see a hundred yards. He did not tell them about the extra trips and +putting the tobacco in them. Dick Rail must have told about him. They +said he must go. Jim turned white. He went to his little room, close up +under the roof of a little dingy house in a back street, and sat down in +the dark; thought about his mother and Kitty, and dimly about some +one else; wrote his mother and Kitty a letter; said he was coming +home--called it "a visit"; cried over the letter, but was careful not to +cry on it. He was a real cry-baby--Jim was. + +"Just run to seed," he said to himself, bitterly, over and over; "just +run to seed." Then he went to sleep. + +The following day he went down to the railroad. That was the last day. +Next day he would be "off." The train-master saw him and called him. A +special was just going out. The Directors were going over the road in +the officers' car. Dick Rail was the engineer, and his fireman had been +taken sick. Jim must take the place. Jim had a mind not to do it. He +hated Dick. He thought of how he had pursued him. But he heard a voice +behind him and turned. Carry was standing down the platform, talking +with some elderly gentlemen. She had on a travelling cap and ulster. She +saw him and came forward--a step: + +"How do you do?" she held out her little gloved hand. She was going out +over the road with her father. Jim took off his hat and shook hands with +her. Dick Rail saw him, walked round the other side of the engine, and +tried to take off his hat like that. It was not a success; Dick knew it. + +Jim went. + +"Who was that?" one of the elderly gentlemen asked Carry. + +"An old friend of mine--a gentleman," she said. + +"Rather run to seed--hey?" the old fellow quoted, without knowing +exactly why; for he only half recognized Jim, if he recognized him at +all. + +They started. + +It was a bad trip. The weather was bad, the road was bad, the engine +bad; Dick bad;--worse than all. Jim had a bad time: he was to be off +when he got home. What would his mother and Kitty do? + +Once Carry came (brought by the President) and rode in the engine for a +little while. Jim helped her up and spread his coat for her to sit on, +put his overcoat under her feet; his heart was in it. Dick was sullen, +and Jim had to show her about the engine. When she got down to go back +to the car she thanked him--she "had enjoyed it greatly"--she "would +like to try it again." Jim smiled. He was almost good-looking when he +smiled. + +Dick was meaner than ever after that, sneered at Jim--swore; but Jim +didn't mind it. He was thinking of some one else, and of the rain which +would prevent her coming again. + +They were on the return trip, and were half-way home when the accident +happened. It was just "good dusk," and it had been raining all night and +all day, and the road was as rotten as mud. The special was behind and +was making up. She had the right of way, and she was flying. She rounded +a curve just above a small "fill," under which was a little stream, +nothing but a mere "branch." In good weather it would never be noticed. +The gay party behind were at dinner. The first thing they knew was the +sudden jerk which came from reversing the engine at full speed, and the +grind as the wheels slid along under the brakes. Then they stopped with +a bump which jerked them out of their seats, set the lamps to swinging, +and sent the things on the table crashing on the floor. No one was hurt, +only shaken, and they crowded out of the car to learn the cause. They +found it. The engine was half buried in wet earth on the other side of +the little washout, with the tender jammed up into the cab. The whole +was wrapped in a dense cloud of escaping steam. The roar was terrific. +The big engineer, bare-headed and covered with mud, and with his face +deadly white, was trying to get down to the engine. Some one was in +there. + +They got him out after a while (but it took some time), and laid him on +the ground, while a mattress was got. It was Jim. + +Carry had been weeping and praying. She sat down and took his head in +her lap, and with her lace handkerchief wiped his blackened and bleeding +face, and smoothed his wet hair. + +The newspaper accounts, which are always reflections of what +public sentiment is, or should be, spoke of it--some, as "a +providential"--others, as "a miraculous"--and yet others as "a +fortunate" escape on the part of the President and the Directors of +the road, according to the tendencies, religious or otherwise, of their +paragraphists. + +They mentioned casually that "only one person was hurt--an employee, +name not ascertained." And one or two had some gush about the devotion +of the beautiful young lady, the daughter of one of the directors of +the road, who happened to be on the train, and who, "like a ministering +angel, held the head of the wounded man in her lap after he was taken +from the wreck." A good deal was made of this picture, which was +extensively copied. + +Dick Rail's account, after he had come back from carrying the broken +body down to the old Upton place in the country, and helping to lay it +away in the old enclosure under the big trees on the hill, was this: + +"By ----!" he said, when he stood in the yard, with a solemn-faced group +around him, "we were late, and I was just shaking 'em up. I had been +meaner'n hell to Jim all the trip (I didn't know him, and you all didn't +neither), and I was workin' him for all he was worth: I didn't give +him a minute. The sweat was rolling off him, and I was damnin' him with +every shovelful. We was runnin' under orders to make up, and we was just +rounding the curve this side of Ridge Hill, when Jim hollered. He saw +it as he raised up with the shovel in his hand to wipe the sweat off his +face, and he hollered to me, 'My God! Look, Dick! Jump!' + +"I looked and Hell was right there. He caught the lever and reversed, +and put on the air and sand before I saw it, and then grabbed me, and +flung me clean out of the cab: 'Jump!' he says, as he give me a swing. +I jumped, expectin' of course he was comin' too; and as I lit, I saw him +turn and catch the lever. The old engine was jumpin' nigh off the track. +But she was too near. In she went, and the tender right on her. You may +talk about his eyes bein' bad; but by ----! when he gave me that swing, +they looked to me like coals of fire. When we got him out 'twarn't Jim! +He warn't nothin' but mud and ashes. He warn't quite dead; opened his +eyes, and breathed onct or twict; but I don't think he knew anything, he +was so mashed up. We laid him out on the grass, and that young lady took +his head in her lap and cried over him (she had come and seed him in +the engine), and said she knew his mother and sister down in the country +(she used to live down there); they was gentlefolks; that Jim was +all they had. And when one of them old director-fellows who had been +swilling himself behind there come aroun', with his kid gloves on and +his hands in his great-coat pockets, lookin' down, and sayin' something +about, 'Poor fellow, couldn't he 'a jumped? Why didn't he jump?' I let +him have it; I said, 'Yes, and if it hadn't been for him, you and I'd +both been frizzin' in h--l this minute.' And the President standin' +there said to some of them, 'That was the same young fellow who came +into my office to get a place last year when you were down, and said +he had "run to seed." 'But,' he says, 'Gentlemen, it was d----d good +seed!'" + +How good it was no one knew but two weeping women in a lonely house. + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of "Run To Seed", by Thomas Nelson Page + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK "RUN TO SEED" *** + +***** This file should be named 23015.txt or 23015.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/3/0/1/23015/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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