That phrase, used now for thirty years, relic of
Yale and Harvard:Royce and Munsterberg. She spenthalf her time talking to real
estate men; they hovered about thehouse like flesh-flies. But Eugene was untroubled
by thought of a goal. He felt sure things would be betterelsewhere. He came,
gathered to lifeagain, out of his grave. Am I going to cutmy throat, or eat worms,
or swallow arsenic? The deliberate calm of Hugh Barton sometimes goaded her to
afrenzy.
A stick is finiteand unextended wood, a fact
determined by its own denial. Do you think you have replacedmy childhoods God with
your Absolute?
One of his fraternity brothers told me
so.
The old head listens gravely above the ironic
intake of theirbreath. With victorious joy, Eugene thought of theflowers above Bens
grave. And his teachers and companions spoketo them about him, and said he would
have a brilliant career. One of his fraternity brothers told me so.
Cant you ever get it into your head that papas a
sick man? A stick, said Eugene, is not only wood but the negation of wood. The old
head listens gravely above the ironic intake of theirbreath. He always felt sure
things would be better elsewhere.
He was wild with ecstasy because the Spring had
beaten death. His body was a rotten fabric which had thus far miraculously
heldtogether.
He was a centaur, moon-eyedand wild of mane, torn
apart with hunger for the golden world. Do you think you have replacedmy childhoods
God with your Absolute? He was devoured by a vast strange hunger for life. And his
teachers and companions spoketo them about him, and said he would have a brilliant
career.
If it werent for me, shed let himdie right under
her eyes.
Thegrief of Ben sank to a forgotten depth in
him.
In all this jugglery, the Teutons wereWeldons
masters, yet mark how thirstily the class lap it up. White, bewildered, servile, the
patient slaves face. To me, youwere the sufficient negation to all your
teachings.
He was nineteen; he had completed hiscollege
course; but he did not know what he was going to do.