Frontier and pioneer life -- Fiction; Loggers -- Fiction; Logging -- Fiction; Michigan -- Fiction
The girl, exasperated by cold details at such a time, blazed out. “I
never heard anything so ridiculous in my life!” she cried. “Either you
are not at all the man I thought you, or you have some better reason
than you have given. Tell me, Harry; tell me at once. You don't know
what you are doing.”
“The firm needs it, Hilda,” said Thorpe, “in order to succeed. If we do
not cut this pine, we may fail.”
In that he stated his religion. The duty of success was to him one of
the loftiest of abstractions, for it measured the degree of a man's
efficiency in the station to which God had called him. The money, as
such, was nothing to him.
Unfortunately the girl had learned a different language. She knew
nothing of the hardships, the struggles, the delight of winning for the
sake of victory rather than the sake of spoils. To her, success meant
getting a lot of money. The name by which Thorpe labelled his most
sacred principle, to her represented something base and sordid. She
had more money herself than she knew. It hurt her to the soul that the
condition of a small money-making machine, as she considered the lumber
firm, should be weighed even for an instant against her love. It was a
great deal Thorpe's fault that she so saw the firm. He might easily have
shown her the great forces and principles for which it stood.
“If I were a man,” she said, and her voice was tense, “if I were a man
and loved a woman, I would be ready to give up everything for her. My
riches, my pride, my life, my honor, my soul even,--they would be as
nothing, as less than nothing to me,--if I loved. Harry, don't let me
think I am mistaken. Let this miserable firm of yours fail, if fail
it must for lack of my poor little temple of dreams,” she held out her
hands with a tender gesture of appeal. The affair had gone beyond the
preservation of a few trees. It had become the question of an ideal.
Gradually, in spite of herself, the conviction was forcing itself upon
her that the man she had loved was no different from the rest; that the
greed of the dollar had corrupted him too. By the mere yielding to her
wishes, she wanted to prove the suspicion wrong.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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