Springfield (Ill.) -- Fiction; Springfield (Ill.) -- In literature; Utopias in literature
Another friend is a great hostess of Springfield, Eloise Terry, by name.
Her enemies declare that she is the representative of her family
fortune, and little else. But they are apt to be people who do not
attend her quite earnest parties, where every ramification of the social
fabric is candidly examined, at least for one evening. The most
competent person is brought in to speak of his strand of the web, be he
bootblack or jailbird or poet. But this is an advance on her family who
are dully conventional, to the core of their souls. And her constant
companions, though they are in fact people of the same general
stratification of good fortune as herself, are selected for their human
interest in her unconsciously inhuman inquisitions. And inquisitions,
after all, come but once a month or so. In general she and her cronies
are taking a decent part in politics, and their wealth does not
interfere with an unprejudiced estimate of candidates, entirely apart
from bank accounts. Her presence in town makes for the truth, and for
progress that much. Liars hate her intensely. Petty political lies fade
before her, however poor her remedies may be for the great lies. She is
a golden-haired girl, around thirty years of age, with three thriving
and well-reared children. Her distinction, in my eyes, is not her
opinions, but the fact that she dresses in schemes allied to the gold of
her hair. I meet her on the street like a bit of blessed sunshine. Also
her heart is quite warm. If she had been a musician, instead of a kind
of contemporary conversational historian, she would have talked of
music, instead of events, with the same ardor and fine tone, to a
similar circle of friends, and brought in the singers, to sing for them,
from the very gutters if necessary, and have been as decent to such
songbirds as she knew how.
CHAPTER II
THE PROGNOSTICATOR’S CLUB
The young disciple minister and I decide that the people of Springfield
who see the vision of the city of the future should be brought together,
and we write some carefully worded invitations. We organize a
Prognosticator’s Club and meet in the Sun Parlor of the Leland Hotel.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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