Book II: Chapter V

by Sherwood Anderson

　　The matter of McGregor's attitude toward women and the call of sex wasnot of course settled by the fight in the house in Lake Street. He wasa man who, even in the days of his great crudeness, appealed stronglyto the mating instinct in women and more than once his purpose was tobe shaken and his mind disturbed by the forms, the faces and the eyesof women.

　　McGregor thought he had settled the matter. He forgot the black-eyedgirl in the hallway and thought only of advancement in the warehouseand of study in his room at night. Now and then he took an evening offand went for a walk through the streets or in one of the parks.

　　In the streets of Chicago, under the night lights, among the restlessmoving people he was a figure to be remembered. Sometimes he did notsee the people at all but went swinging along in the same spirit inwhich he had walked in the Pennsylvania hills. He was striving to geta hold of some elusive quality in life that seemed to be forever outof reach. He did not want to be a lawyer or a warehouseman. What didhe want? Along the street he went trying to make up his mind andbecause his was not a gentle nature his perplexity drove him to angerand he swore.

　　Up and down Madison Street he went striding along, his lips mutteringwords. In a corner saloon some one played a piano. Groups of girlspassed laughing and talking. He came to the bridge that led over theriver into the loop district and then turned restlessly back. On thesidewalks along Canal Street he saw strong-bodied men loitering beforecheap lodging houses. Their clothing was filthy with long wear andthere was no light of determination in their faces. In the little fineinterstices of the cloth of which their clothes were made was gatheredthe filth of the city in which they lived and in the stuff of theirnatures the filth and disorder of modern civilisation had also foundlodging.

　　On walked McGregor looking at man-made things and the flame of angerwithin burned stronger and stronger. He saw the drifting clouds ofpeople of all nations that wander at night in Halstead Street andturning into a side street saw also the Italians, Poles and Russiansthat at evening gather on the sidewalks before tenements in thatdistrict.

　　The desire in McGregor for some kind of activity became a madness. Hisbody shook with the strength of his desire to end the vast disorder oflife. With all the ardour of youth he wanted to see if with thestrength of his arm he could shake mankind out of its sloth. A drunkenman passed and following him came a large man with a pipe in hismouth. The large man did not walk with any suggestion of power in hislegs. He shambled along. He was like a huge child with fat cheeks andgreat untrained body, a child without muscles and hardness, clingingto the skirts of life.

　　McGregor could not bear the sight of the big ungainly figure. The manseemed to personify all of the things against which his soul was inrevolt and he stopped and stood crouched, a ferocious light burning inhis eyes.

　　Into the gutter rolled the man stunned by the force of the blow dealthim by the miner's son. He crawled on his hands and knees and criedfor help. His pipe had rolled away into the darkness. McGregor stoodon the sidewalk and waited. A crowd of men standing before a tenementhouse started to run toward him. Again he crouched. He prayed thatthey would come on and let him fight them also. In anticipation of agreat struggle joy shone in his eyes and his muscles twitched.

　　And then the man in the gutter got to his feet and ran away. The menwho had started to run toward him stopped and turned back. McGregorwalked on, his heart heavy with the sense of defeat. He was a littlesorry for the man he had struck and who had made so ridiculous afigure crawling about on his hands and knees and he was more perplexedthan ever.

　　* * * * *McGregor tried again to solve the problem of women. He had been muchpleased by the outcome of the affair in the little frame house and thenext day bought law books with the twenty-seven dollars thrust intohis hand by the frightened woman. Later he stood in his roomstretching his great body like a lion returned from the kill andthought of the little black-bearded barber in the room at the end ofthe hall stooping over his violin, his mind busy with the attempt tojustify himself because he would not face one of life's problems. Thefeeling of resentment against the man had gone. He thought of thecourse laid out for himself by that philosopher and laughed. "There issomething about it to avoid, like giving yourself up to digging in thedirt under the ground," he told himself.

　　McGregor's second adventure began on a Saturday night and again he lethimself be led into it by the barber. The night was hot and theyounger man sat in his room filled with a desire to go forth andexplore the city. The quiet of the house, the distant rumble of streetcars, the sound of a band playing far down the street disturbed anddiverted his mind. He wished that he might take a stick in his handsand go forth to prowl among the hills as he had gone on such nights inhis youth in the Pennsylvania town.

　　The door to his room opened and the barber came in. In his hand heheld two tickets. He sat on the window sill to explain.

　　"There is a dance in a hall on Monroe Street," said the barberexcitedly. "I have two tickets here. A politician sold them to theboss in the shop where I work." The barber threw back his head andlaughed. To his mind there was something delicious in the thought ofthe boss barber being forced by the politicians to buy dance tickets."They cost two dollars each," he cried and shook with laughter "Youshould have seen my boss squirm. He didn't want the tickets but wasafraid not to take them. The politician could make trouble for him andhe knew it. You see we make a hand-book on the races in the shop andthat is against the law. The politician could make trouble for us. Theboss paid out the four dollars swearing under his breath and when thepolitician had gone out he threw them at me. 'There, take them,' heshouted, 'I don't want the rotten things. Is a man a horse trough atwhich every beast can stop to drink?'"

　　McGregor and the barber sat in the room laughing at the boss barberwho had smilingly bought the tickets while consumed with inward wrath.The barber urged McGregor to go with him to the dance. "We will make anight of it," he said. "We will see women there--two that I know. Theylive upstairs over a grocery store. I have been with them. They willopen your eyes. They are a kind of women you haven't known, bold andclever and good fellows too."

　　McGregor got up and pulled his shirt over his head. A wave of feverishexcitement ran over his body. "We shall see about this," he said, "weshall see if this is another wrong trail you are starting me on. Yougo to your room and get ready. I am going to fix myself up."

　　In the dance hall McGregor sat on a seat by the wall with one of thetwo women lauded by the barber and a third one who was frail andbloodless. To him the adventure had been a failure. The swing of thedance music struck no answering chord in him. He saw the couples onthe floor clasped in each other's arms, writhing and turning, swayingback and forth, looking into each other's eyes and turned asidewishing himself back in his room among the law books.

　　The barber talked to two of the women, bantering them. McGregorthought the conversation inane and trivial. It skirted the edge ofthings and ran off into vague references to other times and adventuresof which he knew nothing.

　　The barber danced away with one of the women. She was tall and thehead of the barber barely Passed her shoulder. His black beard shoneagainst her white dress. The two women sat beside him and talked.McGregor gathered that the frail woman was a maker of hats. Somethingabout her attracted him and he leaned against the wall and looked ather, not hearing the talk.

　　A youth came up and took the other woman away. From across the hallthe barber beckoned to him.

　　A thought flashed into his mind. This woman beside him was frail andthin and bloodless like the women of Coal Creek. A feeling of intimacywith her came over him. He felt as he had felt concerning the tallpale girl of Coal Creek when they together gether had climbed the hillto the eminence that looked down into the valley of farms.