“Marriageisafailurethesedaysformostofus。Wecan’tliveonthefarm，andcan’tgetalivinginthecity，andthereweare。“Shelaidherhandonhisarm。“Ideclare，Howard，you’rethesameboyyouusedtobe。Iain’tabitafraidofyou，forallyoursuccess。“
“Andyou’rethesamegirl？No，Ican’tsaythat。Itseemstomeyou’vegrownmorethanIhave-Idon’tmeanphysically，Imeanmentally，“heexplainedashesawhersmileinthedefensivewayafleshygirlhas，alerttowardoffajoke。
Theywereinthemidstoftalk，Howardtellingoneofhisfunnystories，whenawagonclattereduptothedoorandmerryvoicescalledloudly：
“Whoa，there，Sampson!“
“Hullo，thehouse!“
Roselookedatherfatherwithasmileinherblackeyesexactlylikehis。Theywenttothedoor。
“Hullo!What’swanted？“
“GrantMcLanelivehere？“
“Yup。Righthere。“
Amomentlatertherecamealaughing，chattingsquadofwomentothedoor。Mrs。McLaneandLaurastaredateachotherinamazement。Grantwentoutdoors。
Rosestoodatthedoorasifshewerehostess。
“Comein，Nettie。Gladtoseeyeh-gladtoseeyeh!Mrs。Mcllvaine，comerightin!Takeaseat。Makeyerselftohome，do!AndMrs。
Peavey!Wal，Inever!Thismustbeasurpriseparty。Well，Iswan!
Howmanymoreo’yeairthey？“
Allwasconfusion，merriment，handshakingsasRoseintroducedtheminherroguishway。
“Folks，thisisMr。HowardMcLaneofNewYork。He’sanactor，butithain’tspoiledhimabitasIcansee。How，thisisNettieMcllvaine-Wilsonthatwas。“
HowardshookhandswithNettie，atall，plaingirlwithprominentteeth。
“ThisisMaMcllvaine。“
“Shelooksjustthesame，“said。Howard，shakingherhandandfeelinghowhardandwork-wornitwas。
Andsoamidbustle，chatter，andinvitations“tolayoffy’rthingsan’stayawhile，“thewomengotdisposedabouttheroomatlastThosethathadrockingchairsrockedvigorouslytoandfrotohidetheirembarrassment。Theyalltalkedinloudvoices。
Howardfeltnervousunderthisfurtivescrutiny。Hewishedhisclothesdidn’tlooksoconfoundedlydressy。Whydidn’thehavesenseenoughtogoandbuyafifteen-dollarsuitofdiagonalsforeverydaywear。
Rosewasthelifeoftheparty。Hertonguerattledonmthemostdelightfulway。
“It’sallRosean’Bill’sdoin’s，“Mrs。Mcllvaineexplained。“Theytoldustocomeoveran’pickupanybodyweseeontheroad。Sowedid。“
Howardwincedalittleatherfamiliarityoftone。Hecouldn’thelpitforthelifeofhim。
“Well，IwantedtocometonightbecauseI’mgoingawaynextweek，andIwantedtoseehowhe’dactatasurprisepartyagain，“
Roseexplained。
“Married，Is’pose，“saidMrs。Mcllvaineabruptly。
“No，notyet。“
“Goodland!Why，y’Inns’bethirty-five，How。Mustadis’p’intedy’rmamnottohaveayoung’untocall’ergranny。“
Themencameclumpingin，talkingabouthayingandhorses。
SomeoftheolderonesHowardknewandgreeted，buttheyoungeronesweremainlytoomuchchanged。Theywereallveryillatease。
Mostofthemwereincompromisedress-somethinglyingbetweenworking“rig“andSundaydress。Mostofthemhadoncleanshirtsandpapercollars，andworetheirSundaycoatsthickwoolengarmentsoverroughtrousers。Allofthemcrossedtheirlegsatonce，andmostofthemsoughtthewallandleanedbackperilously~uponthehindlegsoftheirchairs，eyeingHowardslowly。
Forthefirstfewminutesthepresentswerethesubjectsofconversation。Thewomenespeciallyspentagooddealoftalkuponthem。
Howardfoundhimselfforcedtotakingtheinitiative，soheinquiredaboutthecropsandaboutthefarms。
“Iseeyoudon’tplowthehillsasweusedto。Andreap’。Whatajobitusttobe。Itmakesthehillsmorebeautifultohavethemcoveredwithsmoothgrassandcattle。“
Therewasonlydeadsilencetothistouchingupontheideaofbeauty。
“Is’poseitpaysreasonably。“
“Notenoughtokill，“saidoneoftheyoungermen。“Youc’nseethatbythehouseswelivein-thatis，mostofus。Afewthatcameinearlyan’gotlandcheap，likeMcllvaine，here-hegotaliftthattherestofuscan’tget。“
“I’mafreetrader，myself，“saidoneyoungfellow，blushingandlookingawayasHowardturnedandsaidcheerily：
“So’mI。“
Therestsemedtofeelthatthiswasatabooedsubject-asubjecttobetalkedoutofdoors，whereonecouldpranceaboutandyellanddojusticetoit。
Grantsatsilentlyinthekitchendoorway，notsayingaword，notlookingathis。brother。
“Well，Idon’tneverusehotvinegarformine，“Mrs。Mcllvainewasheardtosay。“Ijestusehotwater，an’Irinse’emoutgood，andset’embottom-sideupinthesun。Ido’knowbutwhathotvinegarwouldbemorecleansin’。“
Rosehadtheyoungerfolksinagigglewithadrolltellingofajokeonherself。
“How’dy’stop’emfromlaffin’？“
“Ilet’emlaugh。Oh，myschoolisadisgrace-soonedirectorsays。
ButIliketoseechildrenlaugh。Itbroadenstheircheeks。“
“Yes，that’sallhandwork。“Laurawasshowingthebaby’sSundayclothes。
“GoodnessPeter!Howdoyoufindtimetodosomuch？“
“Itaketime。“
Howard，beingthelionoftheevening，triedhisbesttobeagreeable。Hekeptnearhismother，becauseitaffordedhersomuchprideandsatisfaction，andbecausehewasobligedtokeepawayfromGrant，whohadbeguntotalktothemen。Howardtall~edmainlyabouttheiraffairs，butstillwasforcedmoreandmoreintotalkingoflifeinthecity。Ashetoldofthetheaterandtheconcerts，asuddenchangefelluponthem；theygrewsober，andhefeltdeepdownintheheartsofthesepeopleamelancholywhichwasexpressedonlyelusivelywithlittletonesorsighs。Theirgaietywasfitful。
Theywerehungryfortheworld，forart-theseyoungpeople。
Discontentedandyethardlydaringtoacknowledgeit；indeed，fewofthemcouldhavemadedefinitestatementoftheirdissatisfaction。Theolderpeoplefeltitless。Theypracticallysaid，withasighofpatheticresignation：
“Well，Idon’texpectevertoseethesethingsnow……“
Acasualobserverwouldhavesaid，“Whatapleasantbucolic-thislittlesurprisepartyofwelcome!“ButHowardwithhisnativeearandeyehadnosuchpleasingillusion。Heknewtoowellthesesuggestionsofdespairandbitterness。Heknewthat，likethesmileoftheslave，thischeerfulnesswasself-defense；deepdownwasanotherself。
SeeingGranttalkingwithagroupofmenoverbythekitchendoor，hecrossedoverslowlyandstoodlistening。WesleyCosgrove-atall，rawbonedyoungfellowwithagrave，almosttragicface-wassaying：
“OfcourseIain’t。Whois？Amanthat’ssatisfiedtoliveaswedoisafool。“
“Theworstofitis，“saidGrantwithoutseeingHoward，amancan’tgetoutofitduringhislifetime，andldon’tknowthathe’llhaveanychanceinthenext-thespeculator’llbethereaheadofus。“
Therestlaughed，butGrantwentongrily：
“TenyearsagoWes，here，couldhavegotlandinDakotaprettyeasy，butnowit’saboutallafeller’slife’sworthtotryit。Itellyouthingsseemshuttin’downonusfellers。“
“Plentyo’landtorent？“suggestedsomeone。
“Yes，intermsthatskinamanalive。Morethanthat，farmin’ain’tsofreealifeasitusedtobe。Thiscattle-raisin’andbutter-makin’
makesaniggerofaman。Bindshimrightdowntothegrindstone，andhegetsnothin’outofit-that’swhatrubsitin。Hesimplywallersaroundinthemanureforsomebodyelse。I’dliketoknowwhataman’slifeisworthwholivesaswedo？Howmuchhigherisitthanthelivestheniggersusedtolive？“
ThesebrutallybaldwordsmadeHowardthrillwitbemotionlikesomegreattragicpoem。Asilencefellonthegroup。
“That’stheGod’struth，Grant，“saidyoungCosgroveafterapause。
“Amanlikemeishelpless，“Grantwassaying。“Justlikeaflyinapanofmolasses。Thereain’tanyescapeforhim。Themorehetearsaround，themoreliableheistoriphislegsoff。“
“Whatcanhedo？“
Themenlistenedinsilence。
“Oh，come，don’ttalkpoliticsallnight!“criedRose，breakingin。
“Come，let’shaveadance。Where’sthatfiddle？“
“Fiddle!“criedHoward，gladofachancetolaugh。“Well，now!
Bringoutthatfiddle。IsitWilliam’s？“
“Yes，Pap’soldfiddle。“
“Oh，gosh!hedon’twanttohearmeplay，“pr~testedWilliam。
“He’sheards’manyfiddlers。“
“Fiddlers!I’veheardathousandviolinists，butnotfiddlers。Come，giveus’HonestJohn。’“
Williamtookthefiddleinhiswork-callousedandcrookedhandsandbegantuningit。Thegroupatthekitchendoorturnedtolisten，theirfaceslightingupalittle。Rosetriedtogetasetonthefloor。
“Oh，goodland!“saidsome。“We’realltuckeredout。Whatmakesyousoanxious？“
“ShewantsachancetodancewiththeNewYorker。“
“That’sitexactly，“Roseadmitted。
“Wal，ifyou’dchurnedandmoppedandcookedforhayin’handsasIhavetoday，youwouldn’tbesofullo’nonsense。“
“Oh，bother!Life’sshort。Comequick，getBettieout。Come，Wes，nevermindyourhobbyhorse。“
Byincredibleexertionshegotasetonthefloor，andWilliamgotthefiddleintune。HowardlookedacrossatWesley，andthoughtthechangeinhimsplendidlydramatic。Hisfacehadlightedupintoakindofdeprecating，boyishsmile。Rosecoulddoanythingwithhim。
Williamplayedsomeoftheoldtunesthathadathou-sandassociatedmemoriesinHoward’sbrain，memoriesofharvestmoons，ofmelonfeasts，andofclear，coldwinternights。Ashedanced，hiseyesfilledwithatender，luminouslight。Hecameclosertothemallthanhehadbeenabletodobefore。Granthadgoneoutintothekitchen。
Aftertwoorthreesetshadbeendanced，thecompanytookseatsandcouldnotbestirredagain。SoLauraandRosedisappearedforafewmoments，andreturning，servedstrawberriesandcream，whichshe“justhappenedtohaveinthehouse。“
AndthenWilliamplayedagain。Hisfingers，nowgrownmoresupple，broughtoutclearer，firmertones。Asheplayed，silencefellonthesepeople。Themagicofmusicsoberedeveryface；thewomenlookedolderandmorecareworn，themenslouchedsullenlyintheirchairsorleanedbackagainstthewall。
ItseemedtoHowardasifthespiritoftragedyhadenteredthishouse。MusichadalwaysbeenWilliam’sunconsciousexpressionofhisunsatisfieddesires。Hewasnevermelancholyexceptwhenheplayed。Thenhiseyesgrewsomber，hisdroopingfacefullofshadows。
Heplayedonslowly，softly，wailingScotchtunesandmournfulIrishsongs。Heseemedtofindinthesongsofthesepeople，andespeciallyinawild，sweet，low-keyedNegrosong，someexpressionforhisindefinableinnermelancholy。
Heplayedon，forgetfulofeverybody，hislongbeardsweepingtheviolin，histoilwornhandsmarvelouslyobedienttohiswill。
Atlasthestopped，lookedupwithafaint，deprecatingsmile，andsaidwithasigh：
“Well，folkses，timetogohome。“
Thegoingwasquiet。Notmuchlaughing。Howardstoodatthedoorandsaidgoodnighttothemall，hisheartverytender。
“Comeandseeus，“theysaid。
“Iwill，“herepliedcordially。“I’lltryandgetaroundtoseeeverybody，andtalkoveroldtimes，beforeIgoback。“
Afterthewagonshaddrivenoutoftheyard，Howardturnedandputhisarmabouthismother’sneck。
“Tired？“
“Alittle。“