The Shoulders of Atlas

pines, the next it was as if the wind blew over snow. The air at once stimulated and soothed. One breathing it realized youth and an endless vista of dreams ahead, and also the peace of a

White's door, felt triumphant and undaunted. It did not seem concei

was a very old man himself, but he had no imagination for his own funeral. It seemed to him grotesque and impossible that an undertaker should ever be in need of his own ministration

r father and brother-in-law waited in the south room across the wide hall. When her task wa

l corpse," she said,

and Sylvia more slowly; yet they also had expressions of pleasure, albeit restrained. Both strove to draw their faces down, yet that expression of pleasure r

ons. Henry and Sylvia forgot the dead woman's little store which she had left behind her. Sylvia leaned over her and wept; Henry's face worked. Nobody except himself had ever known it, but he, although much younger, had had his dreams about the beautiful Abrahama White. H

nish it. When at last they left the room he did what was very unusual with him. He was reticent, like the ordinary middle-aged

orpse," said she, in exactly the same voice which she had used before. She began taking off her large, w

id she, in a voice which co

turned pale, then sh

se I w

st my ap

Beads of sweat showed on her flat forehead. She twitched like one about to have convulsions. She was ve

she demanded, in

twit

it? I wan

lora in a small, scared voice

back br

ack br

ack br

es

Sylvia, pitilessly. Her

"She hadn't any use for it,

! Its bad enough

ack breadth while she was living," argued Flora,

ou going to

any call to talk to me so, Mrs. Whitman," she said. "I've worke

s made out of a back bre

y that Mrs. Hiram Adams's

ou're robbing the dead of back breadths til

lthy here we've hardly been able to earn the salt to our porridge. Father won't joi

cried Sylvia

r business, just as working in a shoe-shop is your husband's business. Folks have to have shoes and walk when they're alive, and be laid out nice and buried when they're dead. Our business ha

ne that owns this back breadth is going to have it. I rather think

I've got just this much to say, and no more, Flora Barnes. When you get home you gather up all the back breadths you've got, and you do them up in a bundle, and you put them in that barrel the Ladies' Sewing Society

I never would have thought of such a thing,

it, Flor

Don't speak so

had b

, and Flora followed, red and perspiring. Sylvia heard her say something to her father about the trus

" Sylvia said to Henry-"su

inity which daunted his masculine mind. "To think of women caring enough about dress to do such a thing as t

lvia had bought a magnificent wreath of white roses and carnations and smilax. They had ordered it from a florist in Alford, and

y. He nodded. Both were very busy, even with assistance from the neighbors, and a woman who worked out

lack gown with a certain complacency which she could not control. After the funeral was over, and the distant relatives and neighbors who had assisted had eaten a cold supper and departed, and she and H

e was an awe and strangeness over them; besides, they began to wonder if people might not think it odd for t

which was supposed to produce more hay than any piece of land of its size in the county. Henry had been fired with ambition to produce more than ever before, but that day his spirit had seemed to fail him. He sat about gloomily all the afternoon; then he we

such beautiful things. I have been up in the garret looking over things, and there's one

ed her face, yet saw it as it was, elderly a

uit you to have made over," he said. "I suppos

rew back her round shoulders. Feminine van

I have had to wear black of late years, because it was more economical,

ith perfect love and a perfect cognizance o

d all day, and my hair is all out of crimp. I ain't so sure but if I did up my hair nice, and wasn't

ou could go to meeting dressed in pink

," retorted Sylvia, "in places where they are dre

't," replied Hen

itable and real becoming if I crimped my hair

are

set in the kitchen. Sylvia was saving herself a

t at the hands of Providence; now he felt like a child who, pushing hard against opposition to his desires, has that opposition suddenly removed, and tumbles over backward. Henry had an odd sensation of having ignominiously tumbled over backwa

f possession swerved her more easily. "What on earth ails you, Henry Whitman?" she said. "You look awful down-in-the-mo

hankful and pleased or not,

enry Wh

said Henry, with sudden relish. He felt that he had discovered a new and l

many years to enjoy

will," returned Henr

ft anxiety. "Why, Henry, don

and I haven't

d me! What is the matter? Had

torted Henry

ething to help you. Whereabo

comprehensively, and he smi

l o

ny years to enjoy anything. When a man has worked as long as I have in a shoe-shop, and worried as much

, maybe Dr

otesque irony. "No, Sylvia, no doctor living can give med

ry's all ove

orry's done

k that way it will take away all my comfort! What do y

upsetting you. I can't tell how long I'll live. Sometimes a man lives through everything. All I meant was

mean to be wicke

d-fortune, and I'm glad of it, but I'd been enough sight gladder if it ha

work in the shop

t in creation do you suppose I'm going to

ork around

done-then what? To tell you the truth of it, Sylvia, I've had my nose held to the

office; only Sidney Meeks saw through Henry Whitman. One day he laughed in his face, as the t

can sign it when you go home, and you can give the whole biling thing to foreign missions. The Lord knows there's no need for any mortal man to keep anything he doesn't want-unless it's taxes, or a quick consumption, or a wife and children. And as for those

sarcastic glance. "You are talking tomfool nonsense," he

There was something pathetic, even tragic, about Henry Whitman's sheer inability to enjoy as he might once have done the good things of life, and his desperate clutch of them in flat contradiction

he had no fierce ambition to do so. Sidney Meeks was not an ambitious man in large matters. But he had taken immense comfort in toiling in a little vineyard behind his house, and also in making curious wines and cordials from many unusual ingredients. Sidney had stored in his cellar wines from elder flowers, from elderberries, from daisies, from rhubarb, from clover, and

nd taste, do you?" asked Sidney. "Well, I know. It's simple enough, but nobody except Sidney Meeks has ever found it out. I tell you, Henry, if a man hasn't set the river on fire, reali

ring supper. But Sylvia did not look as radiant as she had done since her good-fortune. She said nothing ailed her, in response to his

ed. The influence of Sidney Meeks's wine had not yet departed

Henry himself been in his usual mood he would have been as much astonished as by her depression. Sylvia began talking an

the big room fixed up for a study. He'll be tickled to pieces. There's beautiful furniture in the room now. I suppose he'll think it's beautiful. It's terrible

ure to like it,"

e broad acres of grass-land. Presently he heard feminine voices in the house, and knew that two of the neighbors, Mrs. Jim Jones and Mrs. Sam Elliot, had called to see Sylvia. He resolved tha

ls. Henry realized that he was very happy. He realized for the first time, with peaceful content, not with joy so turbulent that it was painful and rebellious, that he and his wife owned this grand old house and all those fair acres. He was filled with that great peace of possession which causes a man to feel that he is safe from the ills of life. Henry felt fenced in and guarded. Then suddenly the sense of possession upon earth filled his whole soul