按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
wheat and our apples and our hogs。 Yessir！ There ain't a bigger man…
size job in the world。〃
82
… Page 83…
ONE BASKET
Un Morso doo Pang ＇1919＇
When you are twenty you do not patronize sunsets unless you are
unhappy； in love； or both。 Tessie Golden was both。 Six months ago a
sunset had wrung from her only a casual tribute； such as： 〃My！ Look
how red the sky is！〃 delivered as unemotionally as a weather bulletin。
Tessie Golden sat on the top step of the back porch now； a slim； inert
heap in a cotton house coat and scuffed slippers。 Her head was propped
wearily against the porch post。 Her hands were limp in her lap。 Her
face was turned toward the west； where shone that mingling of orange and
rose known as salmon pink。 But no answering radiance in the girl's face
met the glow in the Wisconsin sky。
Saturday night； after supper in Chippewa； Wisconsin； Tessie Golden
of the presunset era would have been calling from her bedroom to the
kitchen： 〃Ma； what'd you do with my pink blouse？〃
And from the kitchen： 〃It's in your second bureau drawer。 The
collar was kind of mussed from Wednesday night； and I give it a little
pressing while my iron was on。〃
At seven…thirty Tessie would have emerged from her bedroom in the
pink blouse that might have been considered alarmingly frank as to texture
and precariously low as to neck had Tessie herself not been so reassuringly
unopulent； a black taffeta skirt； very brief； a hat with a good deal of
French blue about it； fragile high…heeled pumps with bows。
As she passed through the sitting room on her way out； her mother
would appear in the doorway； dishtowel in hand。 Her pride in this slim
young thing and her love of her she concealed with a thin layer of carping
criticism。
〃Runnin' downtown again； I s'pose。〃 A keen eye on the swishing
skirt hem。
Tessie； the quick…tongued； would toss the wave of shining hair that lay
against either glowing cheek。 〃Oh； my； no！ I just thought I'd dress up
in case Angie Hatton drove past in her auto and picked me up for a little
ride。 So's not to keep her waiting。〃
Angie Hatton was Old Man Hatton's daughter。 Anyone in the Fox
83
… Page 84…
ONE BASKET
River Valley could have told you who Old Man Hatton was。 You saw his
name at the top of every letterhead of any importance in Chippewa； from
the Pulp and Paper Mill to the First National Bank； and including the
watch factory； the canning works； and the Mid…Western Land Company。
Knowing this； you were able to appreciate Tessie's sarcasm。 Angie
Hatton was as unaware of Tessie's existence as only a young woman could
be whose family residence was in Chippewa； Wisconsin； but who wintered
in Italy； summered in the mountains； and bought （so the town said） her
very hairpins in New York。 When Angie Hatton came home from the
East the town used to stroll past on Mondays to view the washing on the
Hatton line。 Angie's underwear； flirting so audaciously with the sunshine
and zephyrs； was of silk and crepe de Chine and satinmaterials that we
had always thought of heretofore as intended exclusively for party dresses
and wedding gowns。 Of course； two years later they were showing
practically the same thing at Megan's dry…goods store。 But that was
always the way with Angie Hatton。 Even those of us who went to
Chicago to shop never quite caught up with her。
Delivered of this ironic thrust； Tessie would walk toward the screen
door with a little flaunting sway of the hips。 Her mother's eyes；
following the slim figure； had a sort of grudging love in them。 A spare；
caustic； wiry little woman； Tessie's mother。 Tessie resembled her as a
water color may resemble a blurred charcoal sketch。 Tessie's wide mouth
curved into humor lines。 She was the cutup of the escapement
department at the watch factory； the older woman's lips sagged at the
corners。 Tessie was buoyant and colorful with youth。 The other was
shrunken and faded with years and labor。 As the girl minced across the
room in her absurdly high…heeled shoes； the older woman thought： My；
but she's pretty！ But she said aloud： 〃I should think you'd stay home
once in a while and not be runnin' the streets every night。〃
〃Time enough to be sittin' home when I'm old like you。〃
And yet between these two there was love； and even understanding。
But in families such as Tessie's； demonstration is a thing to be
ashamed of； affection a thing to conceal。 Tessie's father was janitor of
the Chippewa High School。 A powerful man； slightly crippled by
84
… Page 85…
ONE BASKET
rheumatism； loquacious； lively； fond of his family； proud of his neat gray
frame house and his new cement sidewalk and his carefully tended yard
and garden patch。 In all her life Tessie had never seen a caress exchanged
between her parents。
Nowadays Ma Golden had little occasion for finding fault with Tessie's
evening diversion。 She no longer had cause to say； 〃Always gaddin'
downtown； or over to Cora's or somewhere； like you didn't have a home to
stay in。 You ain't been in a evening this week； only when you washed
your hair。〃
Tessie had developed a fondness for sunsets viewed from the back
porch she who had thought nothing of dancing until three and rising at
half… past six to go to work。
Stepping about in the kitchen after supper； her mother would eye the
limp； relaxed figure on the back porch with a little pang at her heart。 She
would come to the screen door； or even out to the porch on some errand or
otherto empty the coffee grounds； to turn the row of half…ripe tomatoes
reddening on the porch railing； to flap and hang up a damp tea towel。
〃Ain't you goin' out； Tess？〃
〃No。〃
〃What you want to lop around here for？ Such a grant evening。
Why don't you put on your things and run downtown； or over to Cora's or
somewhere； hm？〃
〃What for？〃listlessly。
〃What for！ What does anybody go out for！〃
〃I don't know。〃
If they could have talked it over together； these two； the girl might
have found relief。 But the family shyness of their class was too strong
upon them。 Once Mrs。 Golden had said； in an effort at sympathy；
〃Person'd think Chuck Mory was the only one who'd gone to war an' the
last fella left in the world。〃
A grim flash of the old humor lifted the corners of the wide mouth。
〃He is。 Who's there left？ Stumpy Gans； up at the railroad crossing？
Or maybe Fatty Weiman； driving the garbage。 Guess I'll doll up this
evening and see if I can't make a hit with one of them。〃
85
… Page 86…
ONE BASKET
She relapsed into bitter silence。 The bottom had dropped out of
Tessie Golden's world。
In order to understand the Tessie of today one would have to know
the Tessie of six months agoTessie the impudent； the life…loving。 Tessie
Golden could say things to the escapement…room foreman that anyone else
would have been fired for。 Her wide mouth was capable of glorious
insolences。 Whenever you heard shrieks of laughter from the girls'
washroom at noon you knew that Tessie was holding forth to an admiring
group。 She was a born mimic； audacious； agile； and with the gift of
burlesque。 The autumn that Angie Hatton ca