When Wilbur come back from being alone with his girl, and she saw him coming, Lucy she says, “we got to go to the train now,” and she was most crying, too, but she never knew nothing I knew, and she couldn’t be so all busted up. And then, before Wilbur and Miss Woodbury got up to where she was, she put her face up and kissed me quick and put her head up against me and she was all quivering and--Gee whizz. Sometimes I hope I have cancer and die. I guess you know what I mean. We went in the launch across the bay to the train like that, and it was dark too. She whispered and said it was like she and I could get out of the boat and walk on the water, and it sounded foolish, but I knew what she meant. And then quick, we were right at the depot, and there was a big gang of yaps, the kind that goes to the fairs, and crowded and milling around like cattle, and how could I tell her? “It won’t be long because you’ll write and I’ll write to you.” That’s all she said. I got a chance like a hay barn afire. A swell chance I got. And maybe she would write me, down at Marietta that way, and the letter would come back, and stamped on the front of it by the U.S.A. “there ain’t any such guy,” or something like that, whatever they stamp on a letter that way. And me trying to pass myself off for a bigbug and a swell--to her, as decent a little body as God ever made. Craps amighty. A swell chance I got. And then the train come in and she got on, and Wilbur Wessen come and shook hands with me and that Miss Woodbury was nice and bowed to me and I at her and the train went and I busted out and cried like a kid. Gee, I could have run after that train and made Dan Patch look like a freight train after a wreck, but socks amighty, what was the use? Did you ever see such a fool? I’ll bet you what--if I had an arm broke right now or a train had run over my foot--I wouldn’t go to no doctor at all. I’d go set down and let her hurt and hurt--that’s what I’d do. I’ll bet you what--if I hadn’t a drunk that booze I’d a never been such a boob as to go tell such a lie--that couldn’t never be made straight to a lady like her. I wish I had that fellow right here that had on a Windsor tie and carried a cane. I’d smash him for fair. Gosh darn his eyes. He’s a big fool--that’s what he is. And if I’m not another you just go find me one and I’ll quit working and be a bum and give him my job. I don’t care nothing for working and earning money and saving it for no such boob as myself. [3] Copyright, 1922, by The Dial Publishing Company, Inc. Copyright, 1923, by Sherwood Anderson. THE DEATH OF MURDO[4] By KONRAD BERCOVICI (From _The Pictorial Review_)