CHAPTER XXXV

by Sinclair Lewis

　　SHE tried to be content, which was a contradiction in terms. Shefanatically cleaned house all April. She knitted a sweater for Hugh.She was diligent at Red Cross work. She was silent when Vida raved thatthough America hated war as much as ever, we must invade Germany andwipe out every man, because it was now proven that there was no soldierin the German army who was not crucifying prisoners and cutting offbabies' hands.Carol was volunteer nurse when Mrs. Champ Perry suddenly died ofpneumonia.In her funeral procession were the eleven people left out of the GrandArmy and the Territorial Pioneers, old men and women, very old and weak,who a few decades ago had been boys and girls of the frontier, ridingbroncos through the rank windy grass of this prairie. They hobbledbehind a band made up of business men and high-school boys, whostraggled along without uniforms or ranks or leader, trying to playChopin's Funeral March--a shabby group of neighbors with grave eyes,stumbling through the slush under a solemnity of faltering music.Champ was broken. His rheumatism was worse. The rooms over the storewere silent. He could not do his work as buyer at the elevator. Farmerscoming in with sled-loads of wheat complained that Champ could not readthe scale, that he seemed always to be watching some one back in thedarkness of the bins. He was seen slipping through alleys, talking tohimself, trying to avoid observation, creeping at last to the cemetery.Once Carol followed him and found the coarse, tobacco-stained,unimaginative old man lying on the snow of the grave, his thick armsspread out across the raw mound as if to protect her from the cold, herwhom he had carefully covered up every night for sixty years, who wasalone there now, uncared for.The elevator company, Ezra Stowbody president, let him go. The company,Ezra explained to Carol, had no funds for giving pensions.She tried to have him appointed to the postmastership, which, since allthe work was done by assistants, was the one sinecure in town, the onereward for political purity. But it proved that Mr. Bert Tybee, theformer bartender, desired the postmastership.At her solicitation Lyman Cass gave Champ a warm berth as nightwatchman. Small boys played a good many tricks on Champ when he fellasleep at the mill.IIShe had vicarious happiness in the return of Major Raymond Wutherspoon.He was well, but still weak from having been gassed; he had beendischarged and he came home as the first of the war veterans. It wasrumored that he surprised Vida by coming unannounced, that Vida faintedwhen she saw him, and for a night and day would not share him with thetown. When Carol saw them Vida was hazy about everything except Raymie,and never went so far from him that she could not slip her hand underhis. Without understanding why Carol was troubled by this intensity. AndRaymie--surely this was not Raymie, but a sterner brother of his, thisman with the tight blouse, the shoulder emblems, the trim legs in boots.His face seemed different, his lips more tight. He was not Raymie; hewas Major Wutherspoon; and Kennicott and Carol were grateful when hedivulged that Paris wasn't half as pretty as Minneapolis, that all ofthe American soldiers had been distinguished by their morality when onleave. Kennicott was respectful as he inquired whether the Germans hadgood aeroplanes, and what a salient was, and a cootie, and Going West.In a week Major Wutherspoon was made full manager of the Bon Ton. HarryHaydock was going to devote himself to the half-dozen branch storeswhich he was establishing at crossroads hamlets. Harry would be thetown's rich man in the coming generation, and Major Wutherspoon wouldrise with him, and Vida was jubilant, though she was regretful at havingto give up most of her Red Cross work. Ray still needed nursing, sheexplained.When Carol saw him with his uniform off, in a pepper-and salt suit anda new gray felt hat, she was disappointed. He was not Major Wutherspoon;he was Raymie.For a month small boys followed him down the street, and everybodycalled him Major, but that was presently shortened to Maje, and thesmall boys did not look up from their marbles as he went by.IIIThe town was booming, as a result of the war price of wheat.The wheat money did not remain in the pockets of the farmers; the townsexisted to take care of all that. Iowa farmers were selling their landat four hundred dollars an acre and coming into Minnesota. But whoeverbought or sold or mortgaged, the townsmen invited themselves to thefeast--millers, real-estate men, lawyers, merchants, and Dr. WillKennicott. They bought land at a hundred and fifty, sold it next day ata hundred and seventy, and bought again. In three months Kennicott madeseven thousand dollars, which was rather more than four times as much associety paid him for healing the sick.In early summer began a "campaign of boosting." The Commercial Clubdecided that Gopher Prairie was not only a wheat-center but also theperfect site for factories, summer cottages, and state institutions. Incharge of the campaign was Mr. James Blausser, who had recently come totown to speculate in land. Mr. Blausser was known as a Hustler. He likedto be called Honest Jim. He was a bulky, gauche, noisy, humorous man,with narrow eyes, a rustic complexion, large red hands, and brilliantclothes. He was attentive to all women. He was the first man in town whohad not been sensitive enough to feel Carol's aloofness. He put his armabout her shoulder while he condescended to Kennicott, "Nice lil wifey,I'll say, doc," and when she answered, not warmly, "Thank you very muchfor the imprimatur," he blew on her neck, and did not know that he hadbeen insulted.He was a layer-on of hands. He never came to the house without trying topaw her. He touched her arm, let his fist brush her side. She hated theman, and she was afraid of him. She wondered if he had heard of Erik,and was taking advantage. She spoke ill of him at home and in publicplaces, but Kennicott and the other powers insisted, "Maybe he iskind of a roughneck, but you got to hand it to him; he's got moregit-up-and-git than any fellow that ever hit this burg. And he's prettycute, too. Hear what he said to old Ezra? Chucked him in the ribs andsaid, 'Say, boy, what do you want to go to Denver for? Wait 'll I gettime and I'll move the mountains here. Any mountain will be tickled todeath to locate here once we get the White Way in!'"The town welcomed Mr. Blausser as fully as Carol snubbed him. He was theguest of honor at the Commercial Club Banquet at the Minniemashie House,an occasion for menus printed in gold (but injudiciously proof-read),for free cigars, soft damp slabs of Lake Superior whitefish served asfillet of sole, drenched cigar-ashes gradually filling the saucersof coffee cups, and oratorical references to Pep, Punch, Go, Vigor,Enterprise, Red Blood, He-Men, Fair Women, God's Country, James J.Hill, the Blue Sky, the Green Fields, the Bountiful Harvest, IncreasingPopulation, Fair Return on Investments, Alien Agitators Who Threatenthe Security of Our Institutions, the Hearthstone the Foundation ofthe State, Senator Knute Nelson, One Hundred Per Cent. Americanism, andPointing with Pride.Harry Haydock, as chairman, introduced Honest Jim Blausser. "And Iam proud to say, my fellow citizens, that in his brief stay hereMr. Blausser has become my warm personal friend as well as my fellowbooster, and I advise you all to very carefully attend to the hints of aman who knows how to achieve."Mr. Blausser reared up like an elephant with a camel's neck--red faced,red eyed, heavy fisted, slightly belching--a born leader, divinelyintended to be a congressman but deflected to the more lucrative honorsof real-estate. He smiled on his warm personal friends and fellowboosters, and boomed:"I certainly was astonished in the streets of our lovely littlecity, the other day. I met the meanest kind of critter that God evermade--meaner than the horned toad or the Texas lallapaluza! (Laughter.)And do you know what the animile was? He was a knocker! (Laughter andapplause.)"I want to tell you good people, and it's just as sure as God madelittle apples, the thing that distinguishes our American commonwealthfrom the pikers and tin-horns in other countries is our Punch. You takea genuwine, honest-to-God homo Americanibus and there ain't anythinghe's afraid to tackle. Snap and speed are his middle name! He'll puther across if he has to ride from hell to breakfast, and believe me, I'mmighty good and sorry for the boob that's so unlucky as to get in hisway, because that poor slob is going to wonder where he was at when OldMr. Cyclone hit town! (Laughter.)"Now, frien's, there's some folks so yellow and small and so few in thepod that they go to work and claim that those of us that have the bigvision are off our trolleys. They say we can't make Gopher Prairie, Godbless her! just as big as Minneapolis or St. Paul or Duluth. But lemmetell you right here and now that there ain't a town under the bluecanopy of heaven that's got a better chance to take a running jump andgo scooting right up into the two-hundred-thousand class than littleold G. P.! And if there's anybody that's got such cold kismets that he'safraid to tag after Jim Blausser on the Big Going Up, then we don't wanthim here! Way I figger it, you folks are just patriotic enough so thatyou ain't going to stand for any guy sneering and knocking his own town,no matter how much of a smart Aleck he is--and just on the side I wantto add that this Farmers' Nonpartisan League and the whole bunch ofsocialists are right in the same category, or, as the fellow says,in the same scategory, meaning This Way Out, Exit, Beat It While theGoing's Good, This Means You, for all knockers of prosperity and therights of property!"Fellow citizens, there's a lot of folks, even right here in this fairstate, fairest and richest of all the glorious union, that stand up ontheir hind legs and claim that the East and Europe put it all overthe golden Northwestland. Now let me nail that lie right here and now.'Ah-ha,' says they, 'so Jim Blausser is claiming that Gopher Prairie isas good a place to live in as London and Rome and--and all the rest ofthe Big Burgs, is he? How does the poor fish know?' says they. Well I'lltell you how I know! I've seen 'em! I've done Europe from soup to nuts!They can't spring that stuff on Jim Blausser and get away with it! Andlet me tell you that the only live thing in Europe is our boys that arefighting there now! London--I spent three days, sixteen straight hours aday, giving London the once-over, and let me tell you that it's nothingbut a bunch of fog and out-of-date buildings that no live American burgwould stand for one minute. You may not believe it, but there ain't onefirst-class skyscraper in the whole works. And the same thing goes forthat crowd of crabs and snobs Down East, and next time you hear some zobfrom Yahooville-on-the-Hudson chewing the rag and bulling and trying toget your goat, you tell him that no two-fisted enterprising Westernerwould have New York for a gift!"Now the point of this is: I'm not only insisting that Gopher Prairieis going to be Minnesota's pride, the brightest ray in the glory of theNorth Star State, but also and furthermore that it is right now, andstill more shall be, as good a place to live in, and love in, and bringup the Little Ones in, and it's got as much refinement and culture, asany burg on the whole bloomin' expanse of God's Green Footstool, andthat goes, get me, that goes!"Half an hour later Chairman Haydock moved a vote of thanks to Mr.Blausser.The boosters' campaign was on.The town sought that efficient and modern variety of fame which is knownas "publicity." The band was reorganized, and provided by the CommercialClub with uniforms of purple and gold. The amateur baseball-team hired asemi-professional pitcher from Des Moines, and made a schedule of gameswith every town for fifty miles about. The citizens accompanied it as"rooters," in a special car, with banners lettered "Watch Gopher PrairieGrow," and with the band playing "Smile, Smile, Smile." Whether theteam won or lost the Dauntless loyally shrieked, "Boost, Boys, andBoost Together--Put Gopher Prairie on the Map--Brilliant Record of OurMatchless Team."Then, glory of glories, the town put in a White Way. White Ways were infashion in the Middlewest. They were composed of ornamented posts withclusters of high-powered electric lights along two or three blocks onMain Street. The Dauntless confessed: "White Way Is Installed--TownLit Up Like Broadway--Speech by Hon. James Blausser--Come On You TwinCities--Our Hat Is In the Ring."The Commercial Club issued a booklet prepared by a great and expensiveliterary person from a Minneapolis advertising agency, a red-headedyoung man who smoked cigarettes in a long amber holder. Carol read thebooklet with a certain wonder. She learned that Plover and MinniemashieLakes were world-famed for their beauteous wooded shores and gamey pikeand bass not to be equalled elsewhere in the entire country; thatthe residences of Gopher Prairie were models of dignity, comfort, andculture, with lawns and gardens known far and wide; that the GopherPrairie schools and public library, in its neat and commodious building,were celebrated throughout the state; that the Gopher Prairie millsmade the best flour in the country; that the surrounding farm lands wererenowned, where'er men ate bread and butter, for their incomparable No. 1Hard Wheat and Holstein-Friesian cattle; and that the stores inGopher Prairie compared favorably with Minneapolis and Chicago in theirabundance of luxuries and necessities and the ever-courteous attentionof the skilled clerks. She learned, in brief, that this was the oneLogical Location for factories and wholesale houses."THERE'S where I want to go; to that model town Gopher Prairie," saidCarol.Kennicott was triumphant when the Commercial Club did capture one smallshy factory which planned to make wooden automobile-wheels, butwhen Carol saw the promoter she could not feel that his coming muchmattered--and a year after, when he failed, she could not be verysorrowful.Retired farmers were moving into town. The price of lots had increaseda third. But Carol could discover no more pictures nor interesting foodnor gracious voices nor amusing conversation nor questing minds. Shecould, she asserted, endure a shabby but modest town; the town shabbyand egomaniac she could not endure. She could nurse Champ Perry,and warm to the neighborliness of Sam Clark, but she could not sitapplauding Honest Jim Blausser. Kennicott had begged her, in courtshipdays, to convert the town to beauty. If it was now as beautiful as Mr.Blausser and the Dauntless said, then her work was over, and she couldgo.