Farm life -- Fiction; Nebraska -- Fiction; Soldiers -- Fiction; War stories; World War, 1914-1918 -- Fiction
The company recognized Claude and included him in their talk
about the game. When the visitors had gone, Julius introduced his
brothers. They were all nice boys, Claude thought, and had easy,
agreeable manners. The three older ones were in business, but
they too had been to the game that afternoon. Claude had never
before seen brothers who were so outspoken and frank with one
another. To him they were very cordial; the one who was lying
down came forward to shake hands, keeping the place in his book
with his finger.
On a table in the middle of the room were pipes and boxes of
tobacco, cigars in a glass jar, and a big Chinese bowl full of
cigarettes. This provisionment seemed the more remarkable to
Claude because at home he had to smoke in the cowshed. The number
of books astonished him almost as much; the wainscoting all
around the room was built up in open bookcases, stuffed with
volumes fat and thin, and they all looked interesting and
hard-used. One of the brothers had been to a party the night
before, and on coming home had put his dress-tie about the neck
of a little plaster bust of Byron that stood on the mantel. This
head, with the tie at a rakish angle, drew Claude's attention
more than anything else in the room, and for some reason
instantly made him wish he lived there.
Julius brought in his mother, and when they went to supper Claude
was seated beside her at one end of the long table. Mrs. Erlich
seemed to him very young to be the head of such a family. Her
hair was still brown, and she wore it drawn over her ears and
twisted in two little horns, like the ladies in old
daguerreotypes. Her face, too, suggested a daguerreotype; there
was something old-fashioned and picturesque about it. Her skin
had the soft whiteness of white flowers that have been drenched
by rain. She talked with quick gestures, and her decided little
nod was quaint and very personal. Her hazel-coloured eyes peered
expectantly over her nose-glasses, always watching to see things
turn out wonderfully well; always looking for some good German
fairy in the cupboard or the cake-box, or in the steaming vapor
of wash-day.
The boys were discussing an engagement that had just been
announced, and Mrs. Erlich began to tell Claude a long story
about how this brilliant young man had come to Lincoln and met
this beautiful young girl, who was already engaged to a cold and
academic youth, and how after many heart-burnings the beautiful
girl had broken with the wrong man and become betrothed to the
right one, and now they were so happy, and every one, she asked
Claude to believe, was equally happy! In the middle of her
narrative Julius reminded her smilingly that since Claude didn't
know these people, he would hardly be interested in their
romance, but she merely looked at him over her nose-glasses and
said, "And is that so, Herr Julius!" One could see that she was a
match for them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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