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hunting rabbits and squirrels, but David did not go
with them. He made himself a sling with rubber

bands and a forked stick and went off by himself to
gather nuts. As he went about thoughts came to

him. He realized that he was almost a man and won-
dered what he would do in life, but before they

came to anything, the thoughts passed and he was
a boy again. One day he killed a squirrel that sat on

one of the lower branches of a tree and chattered at
him. Home he ran with the squirrel in his hand.

One of the Bentley sisters cooked the little animal
and he ate it with great gusto. The skin he tacked

on a board and suspended the board by a string
from his bedroom window.

That gave his mind a new turn. After that he
never went into the woods without carrying the

sling in his pocket and he spent hours shooting at
imaginary animals concealed among the brown leaves

in the trees. Thoughts of his coming manhood
passed and he was content to be a boy with a boy's

impulses.
One Saturday morning when he was about to set

off for the woods with the sling in his pocket and a
bag for nuts on his shoulder, his grandfather stopped

him. In the eyes of the old man was the strained
serious look that always a little frightened David. At

such times Jesse Bentley's eyes did not look straight
ahead but wavered and seemed to be looking at

nothing. Something like an invisible curtain ap-
peared to have come between the man and all the

rest of the world. "I want you to come with me,"
he said briefly, and his eyes looked over the boy's

head into the sky. "We have something important
to do today. You may bring the bag for nuts if you

wish. It does not matter and anyway we will be
going into the woods."

Jesse and David set out from the Bentley farm-
house in the old phaeton that was drawn by the

white horse. When they had gone along in silence
for a long way they stopped at the edge of a field

where a flock of sheep were grazing. Among the
sheep was a lamb that had been born out of season,

and this David and his grandfather caught and tied
so tightly that it looked like a little white ball. When

they drove on again Jesse let David hold the lamb
in his arms. "I saw it yesterday and it put me in

mind of what I have long wanted to do," he said,
and again he looked away over the head of the boy

with the wavering, uncertain stare in his eyes.
After the feeling of exaltation that had come to

the farmer as a result of his successful year, another
mood had taken possession of him. For a long time

he had been going about feeling very humble and
prayerful. Again he walked alone at night thinking

of God and as he walked he again connected his
own figure with the figures of old days. Under the

stars he knelt on the wet grass and raised up his
voice in prayer. Now he had decided that like the

men whose stories filled the pages of the Bible, he
would make a sacrifice to God. "I have been given

these abundant crops and God has also sent me a
boy who is called David," he whispered to himself.

"Perhaps I should have done this thing long ago."
He was sorry the idea had not come into his mind

in the days before his daughter Louise had been
born and thought that surely now when he had

erected a pile of burning sticks in some lonely place
in the woods and had offered the body of a lamb as

a burnt offering, God would appear to him and give
him a message.

More and more as he thought of the matter, he
thought also of David and his passionate self-love

was partially forgotten. "It is time for the boy to
begin thinking of going out into the world and the

message will be one concerning him," he decided.
"God will make a pathway for him. He will tell me

what place David is to take in life and when he shall
set out on his journey. It is right that the boy should

be there. If I am fortunate and an angel of God
should appear, David will see the beauty and glory

of God made manifest to man. It will make a true
man of God of him also."

In silence Jesse and David drove along the road
until they came to that place where Jesse had once

before appealed to God and had frightened his
grandson. The morning had been bright and cheer-

ful, but a cold wind now began to blow and clouds
hid the sun. When David saw the place to which

they had come he began to tremble with fright, and
when they stopped by the bridge where the creek

came down from among the trees, he wanted to
spring out of the phaeton and run away.

A dozen plans for escape ran through David's
head, but when Jesse stopped the horse and climbed

over the fence into the wood, he followed. "It is
foolish to be afraid. Nothing will happen," he told

himself as he went along with the lamb in his arms.
There was something in the helplessness of the little

animal held so tightly in his arms that gave him
courage. He could feel the rapid beating of the

beast's heart and that made his own heart beat less
rapidly. As he walked swiftly along behind his

grandfather, he untied the string with which the
four legs of the lamb were fastened together. "If

anything happens we will run away together," he
thought.

In the woods, after they had gone a long way
from the road, Jesse stopped in an opening among

the trees where a clearing, overgrown with small
bushes, ran up from the creek. He was still silent

but began at once to erect a heap of dry sticks which
he presently set afire. The boy sat on the ground

with the lamb in his arms. His imagination began to
invest every movement of the old man with signifi-

cance and he became every moment more afraid. "I
must put the blood of the lamb on the head of the

boy," Jesse muttered when the sticks had begun to
blaze greedily, and taking a long knife from his

pocket he turned and walked rapidly across the
clearing toward David.

Terror seized upon the soul of the boy. He was
sick with it. For a moment he sat perfectly still and

then his body stiffened and he sprang to his feet.
His face became as white as the fleece of the lamb

that, now finding itself suddenly released, ran down
the hill. David ran also. Fear made his feet fly. Over

the low bushes and logs he leaped frantically. As he
ran he put his hand into his pocket and took out

the branched stick from which the sling for shooting
squirrels was suspended. When he came to the

creek that was shallow and splashed down over the
stones, he dashed into the water and turned to look

back, and when he saw his grandfather still running
toward him with the long knife held tightly in his

hand he did not hesitate, but reaching down, se-
lected a stone and put it in the sling. With all his

strength he drew back the heavy rubber bands and
the stone whistled through the air. It hit Jesse, who

had entirely forgotten the boy and was pursuing the
lamb, squarely in the head. With a groan he pitched

forward and fell almost at the boy's feet. When
David saw that he lay still and that he was appar-

ently dead, his fright increased immeasurably. It be-
came an insane panic.

With a cry he turned and ran off through the
woods weeping convulsively. "I don't care--I killed

him, but I don't care," he sobbed. As he ran on and
on he decided suddenly that he would never go

back again to the Bentley farms or to the town of
Winesburg. "I have killed the man of God and now

I will myself be a man and go into the world," he
said stoutly as he stopped running and walked rap-

idly down a road that followed the windings of
Wine Creek as it ran through fields and forests into

the west.
On the ground by the creek Jesse Bentley moved

uneasily about. He groaned and opened his eyes.
For a long time he lay perfectly still and looked at

the sky. When at last he got to his feet, his mind
was confused and he was not surprised by the boy's

disappearance. By the roadside he sat down on a
log and began to talk about God. That is all they

ever got out of him. Whenever David's name was
mentioned he looked vaguely at the sky and said

that a messenger from God had taken the boy. "It
happened because I was too greedy for glory," he

declared, and would have no more to say in the
matter.

A MAN OF IDEAS
HE LIVED WITH his mother, a grey, silent woman

with a peculiar ashy complexion. The house in
which they lived stood in a little grove of trees be-

yond where the main street of Winesburg crossed
Wine Creek. His name was Joe Welling, and his fa-

ther had been a man of some dignity in the commu-
nity, a lawyer, and a member of the state legislature

at Columbus. Joe himself was small of body and in
his characterunlike anyone else in town. He was

like a tiny little volcano that lies silent for days and
then suddenly spouts fire. No, he wasn't like that--

he was like a man who is subject to fits, one who
walks among his fellow men inspiring fear because

a fit may come upon him suddenly and blow him
away into a strange uncannyphysical state in which

his eyes roll and his legs and arms jerk. He was like
that, only that the visitation that descended upon

Joe Welling was a mental and not a physical thing.
He was beset by ideas and in the throes of one of his

ideas was uncontrollable. Words rolled and tumbled
from his mouth. A peculiar smile came upon his

lips. The edges of his teeth that were tipped with
gold glistened in the light. Pouncing upon a by-

stander he began to talk. For the bystander there
was no escape. The excited man breathed into his

face, peered into his eyes, pounded upon his chest
with a shaking forefinger, demanded, compelled

attention.
In those days the Standard Oil Company did not

deliver oil to the consumer in big wagons and motor
trucks as it does now, but delivered instead to retail

grocers, hardware stores, and the like. Joe was the


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