Hugh looked at the people who were whirled along past him, and shivered
with the nameless fear of multitudes, common to country boys in the
city. When the rush of people had a little subsided he went out of the
station and, walking across a narrow street, stood by a brick store
building. Presently the rush of people began again, and again men,
women, and boys came hurrying across the bridge and ran wildly in at
the doorway leading into the station. They came in waves as water washes
along a beach during a storm. Hugh had a feeling that if he were by
some chance to get caught in the crowd he would be swept away into
some unknown and terrible place. Waiting until the rush had a little
subsided, he went across the street and on to the bridge to look at the
river that flowed past the station. It was narrow and filled with ships,
and the water looked gray and dirty. A pall of black smoke covered the
sky. From all sides of him and even in the air above his head a great
clatter and roar of bells and whistles went on.
With the air of a child venturing into a dark forest Hugh went a little
way into one of the streets that led westward from the station. Again
he stopped and stood by a building. Near at hand a group of young
city roughs stood smoking and talking before a saloon. Out of a nearby
building came a young girl who approached and spoke to one of them.
The man began to swear furiously. “You tell her I'll come in there in
a minute and smash her face,” he said, and, paying no more attention to
the girl, turned to stare at Hugh. All of the young men lounging before
the saloon turned to stare at the tall countryman. They began to laugh
and one of them walked quickly toward him.
Hugh ran along the street and into the station followed by the shouts of
the young roughs. He did not venture out again, and when his train
was ready, got aboard and went gladly out of the great complex
dwelling-place of modern Americans.
Hugh went from town to town always working his way eastward, always
seeking the place where happiness was to come to him and where he was to
achieve companionship with men and women. He cut fence posts in a forest
on a large farm in Indiana, worked in the fields, and in one place was a
section hand on the railroad.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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