Winesburg, Ohio: A Group of Tales of Ohio Small Town LifeAnderson, Sherwood
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Winesburg, Ohio: A Group of Tales of Ohio Small Town Life
Anderson, Sherwood
City and town life -- Fiction; Ohio -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Pastoral fiction
All over his body Jesse Bentley was alive. In his small frame was
gathered the force of a long line of strong men. He had always been
extraordinarily alive when he was a small boy on the farm and later
when he was a young man in school. In the school he had studied and
thought of God and the Bible with his whole mind and heart. As time
passed and he grew to know people better, he began to think of himself
as an extraordinary man, one set apart from his fellows. He wanted
terribly to make his life a thing of great importance, and as he looked
about at his fellow men and saw how like clods they lived it seemed to
him that he could not bear to become also such a clod. Although in his
absorption in himself and in his own destiny he was blind to the fact
that his young wife was doing a strong woman’s work even after she had
become large with child and that she was killing herself in his
service, he did not intend to be unkind to her. When his father, who
was old and twisted with toil, made over to him the ownership of the
farm and seemed content to creep away to a corner and wait for death,
he shrugged his shoulders and dismissed the old man from his mind.
In the room by the window overlooking the land that had come down to
him sat Jesse thinking of his own affairs. In the stables he could hear
the tramping of his horses and the restless movement of his cattle.
Away in the fields he could see other cattle wandering over green
hills. The voices of men, his men who worked for him, came in to him
through the window. From the milkhouse there was the steady thump,
thump of a churn being manipulated by the half-witted girl, Eliza
Stoughton. Jesse’s mind went back to the men of Old Testament days who
had also owned lands and herds. He remembered how God had come down out
of the skies and talked to these men and he wanted God to notice and to
talk to him also. A kind of feverish boyish eagerness to in some way
achieve in his own life the flavor of significance that had hung over
these men took possession of him. Being a prayerful man he spoke of the
matter aloud to God and the sound of his own words strengthened and fed
his eagerness.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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