thoughtful lives lived by people about them.
Born of a
delicate and overworked mother, and
an
impulsive, hard,
imaginative father, who did not
look with favor upon her coming into the world,
Louise was from
childhood a neurotic, one of the
race of over-sensitive women that in later days in-
dustrialism was to bring in such great numbers into
the world.
During her early years she lived on the Bentley
farm, a silent, moody child,
wanting love more than
anything else in the world and not getting it. When
she was fifteen she went to live in Winesburg with
the family of Albert Hardy, who had a store for the
sale of buggies and wagons, and who was a member
of the town board of education.
Louise went into town to be a student in the
Winesburg High School and she went to live at the
Hardys' because Albert Hardy and her father were
friends.
Hardy, the
vehicle merchant of Winesburg, like
thousands of other men of his times, was an enthu-
siast on the subject of education. He had made his
own way in the world without
learning got from
books, but he was convinced that had he but known
books things would have gone better with him. To
everyone who came into his shop he talked of the
matter, and in his own household he drove his fam-
ily distracted by his
constant harping on the subject.
He had two daughters and one son, John Hardy,
and more than once the daughters threatened to
leave school
altogether. As a matter of principle they
did just enough work in their classes to avoid pun-
ishment. "I hate books and I hate anyone who likes
books," Harriet, the younger of the two girls, de-
clared passionately.
In Winesburg as on the farm Louise was not
happy. For years she had dreamed of the time when
she could go forth into the world, and she looked
upon the move into the Hardy household as a great
step in the direction of freedom. Always when she
had thought of the matter, it had seemed to her that
in town all must be
gaiety and life, that there men
and women must live happily and
freely, giving and
taking friendship and
affection as one takes the feel
of a wind on the cheek. After the silence and the
cheerlessness of life in the Bentley house, she
dreamed of stepping forth into an
atmosphere that
was warm and pulsating with life and
reality. And
in the Hardy household Louise might have got
something of the thing for which she so hungered
but for a mistake she made when she had just come
to town.
Louise won the disfavor of the two Hardy girls,
Mary and Harriet, by her
application to her studies
in school. She did not come to the house until the
day when school was to begin and knew nothing of
the feeling they had in the matter. She was timid
and during the first month made no acquaintances.
Every Friday afternoon one of the hired men from
the farm drove into Winesburg and took her home
for the week-end, so that she did not spend the
Saturday
holiday with the town people. Because she
was embarrassed and
lonely she worked
constantly
at her studies. To Mary and Harriet, it seemed as
though she tried to make trouble for them by her
proficiency. In her
eagerness to appear well Louise
wanted to answer every question put to the class by
the teacher. She jumped up and down and her eyes
flashed. Then when she had answered some ques-
tion the others in the class had been
unable to an-
swer, she smiled happily. "See, I have done it for
you," her eyes seemed to say. "You need not bother
about the matter. I will answer all questions. For the
whole class it will be easy while I am here."
In the evening after supper in the Hardy house,
Albert Hardy began to praise Louise. One of the
teachers had
spoken highly of her and he was de-
lighted. "Well, again I have heard of it," he began,
looking hard at his daughters and then turning to
smile at Louise. "Another of the teachers has told
me of the good work Louise is doing. Everyone in
Winesburg is telling me how smart she is. I am
ashamed that they do not speak so of my own
girls." Arising, the merchant marched about the
room and lighted his evening cigar.
The two girls looked at each other and shook their
heads
wearily. Seeing their
indifference the father
became angry. "I tell you it is something for you
two to be thinking about," he cried, glaring at them.
"There is a big change coming here in America and
in
learning is the only hope of the coming genera-
tions. Louise is the daughter of a rich man but she
is not
ashamed to study. It should make you
ashamed to see what she does."
The merchant took his hat from a rack by the door
and prepared to depart for the evening. At the door
he stopped and glared back. So
fierce was his man-
ner that Louise was frightened and ran
upstairs to
her own room. The daughters began to speak of
their own affairs. "Pay attention to me," roared the
merchant. "Your minds are lazy. Your
indifferenceto education is affecting your characters. You will
amount to nothing. Now mark what I say--Louise
will be so far ahead of you that you will never catch
up."
The distracted man went out of the house and
into the street shaking with wrath. He went along
muttering words and swearing, but when he got
into Main Street his anger passed. He stopped to
talk of the weather or the crops with some other
merchant or with a farmer who had come into town
and forgot his daughters
altogether or, if he thought
of them, only shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, well,
girls will be girls," he muttered philosophically.
In the house when Louise came down into the
room where the two girls sat, they would have noth-
ing to do with her. One evening after she had been
there for more than six weeks and was heartbroken
because of the continued air of
coldness with which
she was always greeted, she burst into tears. "Shut
up your crying and go back to your own room and
to your books," Mary Hardy said sharply.
* * *
The room occupied by Louise was on the second
floor of the Hardy house, and her window looked
out upon an
orchard. There was a stove in the room
and every evening young John Hardy carried up an
armful of wood and put it in a box that stood by the
wall. During the second month after she came to
the house, Louise gave up all hope of getting on a
friendly
footing with the Hardy girls and went to
her own room as soon as the evening meal was at
an end.
Her mind began to play with thoughts of making
friends with John Hardy. When he came into the
room with the wood in his arms, she pretended to
be busy with her studies but watched him eagerly.
When he had put the wood in the box and turned
to go out, she put down her head and blushed. She
tried to make talk but could say nothing, and after
he had gone she was angry at herself for her
stupidity.
The mind of the country girl became filled with
the idea of
drawing close to the young man. She
thought that in him might be found the quality she
had all her life been seeking in people. It seemed to
her that between herself and all the other people in
the world, a wall had been built up and that she
was living just on the edge of some warm inner
circle of life that must be quite open and under-
standable to others. She became obsessed with the
thought that it wanted but a
courageous act on her
part to make all of her association with people some-
thing quite different, and that it was possible by
such an act to pass into a new life as one opens a
door and goes into a room. Day and night she
thought of the matter, but although the thing she
wanted so
earnestly was something very warm and
close it had as yet no
consciousconnection with sex. It
had not become that
definite, and her mind had only
alighted upon the person of John Hardy because he
was at hand and
unlike his sisters had not been un-
friendly to her.
The Hardy sisters, Mary and Harriet, were both
older than Louise. In a certain kind of knowledge of
the world they were years older. They lived as all
of the young women of Middle Western towns
lived. In those days young women did not go out
of our towns to Eastern colleges and ideas in regard
to social classes had hardly begun to exist. A daugh-
ter of a
laborer was in much the same social position
as a daughter of a farmer or a merchant, and there
were no
leisure classes. A girl was "nice" or she was
"not nice." If a nice girl, she had a young man who
came to her house to see her on Sunday and on
Wednesday evenings. Sometimes she went with her
young man to a dance or a church social. At other
times she received him at the house and was given
the use of the
parlor for that purpose. No one in-
truded upon her. For hours the two sat behind
closed doors. Sometimes the lights were turned low
and the young man and woman embraced. Cheeks
became hot and hair disarranged. After a year or
two, if the
impulse within them became strong and
insistent enough, they married.
One evening during her first winter in Winesburg,
Louise had an adventure that gave a new
impulseto her desire to break down the wall that she
thought stood between her and John Hardy. It was
Wednesday and immediately after the evening meal
Albert Hardy put on his hat and went away. Young
John brought the wood and put it in the box in
Louise's room. "You do work hard, don't you?" he
said
awkwardly, and then before she could answer
he also went away.
Louise heard him go out of the house and had a
mad desire to run after him. Opening her window
she leaned out and called
softly, "John, dear John,
come back, don't go away." The night was cloudy
and she could not see far into the darkness, but as
she waited she fancied she could hear a soft little