Jerome, A Poor Man: A NovelFreeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
General
Jerome, A Poor Man: A Novel
Freeman, Mary Eleanor Wilkins
New England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Jerome went up the long hill under this fire of covert ridicule.
Elmira, behind him, began to cry, holding up one little shawled arm
like a wing before her face. Jerome never lowered his proud head; his
unwinking black eyes stared straight ahead at the three; his face was
deadly white; his hands twitched at his sides.
The great boy was 'Lisha Robinson; the girls were the pretty twin
daughters of a farmer living three miles away, who had just brought
them to school on his ox-sled. Their two sweet, rosy faces, full of
pitiless childish merriment for him, and half-unconscious maiden
wiles towards the young man at their side, towards whom they leaned
involuntarily as they tittered, aroused Jerome to a worse frenzy than
'Lisha's face with its coarse leer.
All three started back a little as he drew near; there was something
in his unwinking eyes which was intimidating. However, 'Lisha had his
courage to manifest before these girls. "Say, Jerome," he
shouted--"say, Jerome, got any room to spare in that coat? 'cause
Abigail Mack is freezin'."
"Go 'long, 'Lisha," cried Abigail, sputtering with giggles, and
giving the young man a caressing push with her elbow.
'Lisha, thus encouraged, essayed further wit. "Say, Jerome, s'pose
you can fill out that coat of yours any quicker if I give ye half my
dinner? Here's a half a pie I can spare. Reckon you don't have much
to eat down to your house, 'cept chicken-fodder, and that ain't very
fat'nin'."
Jerome came up. All at once through the glow of his black eyes
flashed that spiritual lightning, evident when purpose is changed to
action. The girls screamed and fled. 'Lisha swung about in a panic,
but Jerome launched himself upon his averted shoulder. The girls,
glancing back with terrified eyes from the school-house door, seemed
to see the boy lift the grown man from the ground, and the two whirl
a second in the air before they crashed down, and so declared
afterwards. Jerome clung to his opponent like a wild-cat, a small but
terrific body all made up of nerves and muscles and electric fire. He
wound his arms with a violent jerk as of steel around 'Lisha's neck;
he bunted him with a head like a cannon-ball; he twisted little wiry
legs under the hollows of 'Lisha's knees. The two came down together
with a great thud. The teacher and the scholars came rushing to the
door. Elmira wailed and sobbed in the background. The slight boy was
holding great 'Lisha on the ground with a strength that seemed
uncanny.
'Lisha's nose was bleeding; he breathed hard; his eyes, upturned to
Jerome, had a ghastly roll. "Let me--up, will ye?" he choked,
faintly.
"Will you ever say anything like that again?"
"Let me up, will ye?" 'Lisha gave a convulsive gasp that was almost
a sob.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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