A story teller's story : $b The tale of an American writer's journey through his own imaginative world and through the world of facts, with many of his experiences and impressions among other writersAnderson, Sherwood
General
A story teller's story : $b The tale of an American writer's journey through his own imaginative world and through the world of facts, with many of his experiences and impressions among other writers
Anderson, Sherwood
Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941; Authors, American -- 20th century -- Biography
Father and son still owned the Berners merchandising establishment
although they seemed to give it little attention.
What a place it was! Some ten years before I made his acquaintance
the younger Berners, named Alonzo, had gone to Chicago where he had
got quite hopelessly drunk. During his whole life the man had been a
sufferer from some obscure nervous disease and was never without pain.
The sprees he sometimes went on were but a kind of desperate attempt
to free himself for a short time from the presence of pain. After the
drunken time he was dreadfully ill and seemed about to die and then
there came a time of weakness and a kind of physical peace. The tense
nerves of his slender body relaxed, he slept at night and spent the
days talking with a few friends, reading books or riding about town in
a buggy.
On the sprees, of ten years before, sprees indulged in twice a year at
regular intervals outside his own town, when he had stolen away without
warning to his father or to an older sister of the household, young
Alonzo had been picked up in the city of Chicago by an English deep-sea
sailor. The sailor had been working for a time on a lake steamer but
had tired of the place and had left his ship at Chicago and had also
gone on a drunk. He rescued Alonzo Berners from the men into whose
hands he had fallen and brought him home and later became attached to
the Berners establishment, staying in the Illinois town at first as
clerk in the store and later as the store’s manager. He was a heavily
built man of fifty-five when I saw him and had a white scar, evidently
from an old knife wound, on his brown cheek and a peculiar waddling
gait. As he hustled about the store one thought of a fat duck trying to
make its way rapidly along on land.
In the Berners establishment were sold hardware, agricultural
implements, house and barn paints, jack-knives and a thousand other
things and there was also a harness shop in the main building facing
the town’s principal street. Back of the main building there was an
alleyway and across the alleyway half a dozen large frame buildings in
which were kept hides bought from the farmers, coal, lumber, bins of
corn, wheat and oats in bags and hay in bales.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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