sunshine sketches of a little town-第32部分

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went　up　in　the　windows　of　the　Mariposa　Newspacket　with　the
telegraphic　despatch　that　Josh　Smith　was　reported　in　the　city　to　be
elected；　and　was　followed　by　the　messages　from　all　over　the　county；
the　voters　hesitated　no　longer。　They　had　waited；　most　of　them；　all
through　the　day；　not　wanting　to　make　any　error　in　their　vote；　but
when　they　saw　the　Smith　men　crowding　into　the　polls　and　heard　the
news　from　the　outside；　they　went　solid　in　one　great　stampede；　and　by
the　time　the　poll　was　declared　closed　at　five　o'clock　there　was　no
shadow　of　doubt　that　the　county　was　saved　and　that　Josh　Smith　was
elected　for　Missinaba。

I　wish　you　could　have　witnessed　the　scene　in　Mariposa　that　evening。
It　would　have　done　your　heart　good；such　joy；　such　public　rejoicing
as　you　never　saw。　It　turned　out　that　there　wasn't　really　a　Liberal　in
the　whole　town　and　that　there　never　had　been。　They　were　all
Conservatives　and　had　been　for　years　and　years。　Men　who　had　voted；
with　pain　and　sorrow　in　their　hearts；　for　the　Liberal　party　for
twenty　years；　came　out　that　evening　and　owned　up　straight　that　they
were　Conservatives。　They　said　they　could　stand　the　strain　no　longer
and　simply　had　to　confess。　Whatever　the　sacrifice　might　mean；　they
were　prepared　to　make　it。

Even　Mr。　Golgotha　Gingham；　the　undertaker；　came　out　and　admitted　that
in　working　for　John　Henry　Bagshaw　he'd　been　going　straight　against
his　conscience。　He　said　that　right　from　the　first　he　had　had　his
misgivings。　He　said　it　had　haunted　him。　Often　at　night　when　he　would
be　working　away　quietly；　one　of　these　sudden　misgivings　would
overcome　him　so　that　he　could　hardly　go　on　with　his　embalming。　Why；
it　appeared　that　on　the　very　first　day　when　reciprocity　was　proposed；
he　had　come　home　and　said　to　Mrs。　Gingham　that　he　thought　it　simply
meant　selling　out　the　country。　And　the　strange　thing　was　that　ever
so　many　others　had　just　the　same　misgivings。　Trelawney　admitted　that
he　had　said　to　Mrs。　Trelawney　that　it　was　madness；　and　Jeff　Thorpe；
the　barber；　had；　he　admitted；　gone　home　to　his　dinner；　the　first　day
reciprocity　was　talked　of；　and　said　to　Mrs。　Thorpe　that　it　would
simply　kill　business　in　the　country　and　introduce　a　cheap；　shoddy；
American　form　of　haircut　that　would　render　true　loyalty　impossible。
To　think　that　Mrs。　Gingham　and　Mrs。　Trelawney　and　Mrs。　Thorpe　had
known　all　this　for　six　months　and　kept　quiet　about　it！　Yet　I　think
there　were　a　good　many　Mrs。　Ginghams　in　the　country。　It　is　merely
another　proof　that　no　woman　is　fit　for　politics。

The　demonstration　that　night　in　Mariposa　will　never　be　forgotten。　The
excitement　in　the　streets；　the　torchlights；　the　music　of　the　band　of
the　Knights　of　Pythias　（an　organization　which　is　conservative　in　all
but　name）；　and　above　all　the　speeches　and　the　patriotism。

They　had　put　up　a　big　platform　in　front　of　the　hotel；　and　on　it　were
Mr。　Smith　and　his　chief　workers；　and　behind　them　was　a　perfect　forest
of　flags。　They　presented　a　huge　bouquet　of　flowers　to　Mr。　Smith；
handed　to　him　by　four　little　girls　in　white；the　same　four　that　I
spoke　of　above；　for　it　turned　out　that　they　were　all　Conservatives。

Then　there　were　the　speeches。　Judge　Pepperleigh　spoke　and　said　that
there　was　no　need　to　dwell　on　the　victory　that　they　had　achieved；
because　it　was　history；　there　was　no　occasion　to　speak　of　what　part
he　himself　had　played；　within　the　limits　of　his　official　position；
because　what　he　had　done　was　henceforth　a　matter　of　history；　and
Nivens；　the　lawyer；　said　that　he　would　only　say　just　a　few　words；
because　anything　that　he　might　have　done　was　now　history；　later
generations；　he　said；　might　read　it　but　it　was　not　for　him　to　speak
of　it；　because　it　belonged　now　to　the　history　of　the　country。　And；
after　them；　others　spoke　in　the　same　strain　and　all　refused
absolutely　to　dwell　on　the　subject　（for　more　than　half　an　hour）　on
the　ground　that　anything　that　they　might　have　done　was　better　left
for　future　generations　to　investigate。　And　no　doubt　this　was　very
true；　as　to　some　things；　anyway。

Mr。　Smith；　of　course；　said　nothing。　He　didn't　have　to；not　for　four
years；and　he　knew　it。



TWELVE

L'Envoi。　The　Train　to　Mariposa

It　leaves　the　city　every　day　about　five　o'clock　in　the　evening；　the
train　for　Mariposa。

Strange　that　you　did　not　know　of　it；　though　you　come　from　the　little
townor　did；　long　years　ago。

Odd　that　you　never　knew；　in　all　these　years；　that　the　train　was　there
every　afternoon；　puffing　up　steam　in　the　city　station；　and　that　you
might　have　boarded　it　any　day　and　gone　home。　No；　not　〃home；〃of
course　you　couldn't　call　it　〃home〃　now；　〃home〃　means　that　big　red
sandstone　house　of　yours　in　the　costlier　part　of　the　city。　〃Home〃
means；　in　a　way；　this　Mausoleum　Club　where　you　sometimes　talk　with　me
of　the　times　that　you　had　as　a　boy　in　Mariposa。

But　of　course　〃home〃　would　hardly　be　the　word　you　would　apply　to　the
little　town；　unless　perhaps；　late　at　night；　when　you'd　been　sitting
reading　in　a　quiet　corner　somewhere　such　a　book　as　the　present　one。

Naturally　you　don't　know　of　the　Mariposa　train　now。　Years　ago；　when
you　first　came　to　the　city　as　a　boy　with　your　way　to　make；　you　knew
of　it　well　enough；　only　too　well。　The　price　of　a　ticket　counted　in
those　days；　and　though　you　knew　of　the　train　you　couldn't　take　it；
but　sometimes　from　sheer　homesickness　you　used　to　wander　down　to　the
station　on　a　Friday　afternoon　after　your　work；　and　watch　the　Mariposa
people　getting　on　the　train　and　wish　that　you　could　go。

Why；　you　knew　that　train　at　one　time　better；　I　suppose；　than　any
other　single　thing　in　the　city；　and　loved　it　too　for　the　little　town
in　the　sunshine　that　it　ran　to。

Do　you　remember　how　when　you　first　began　to　make　money　you　used　to
plan　that　just　as　soon　as　you　were　rich；　really　rich；　you'd　go　back
home　again　to　the　little　town　and　build　a　great　big　house　with　a　fine
verandah；no　stint　about　it；　the　best　that　money　could　buy；　planed
lumber；　every　square　foot　of　it；　and　a　fine　picket　fence　in　front　of
it。

It　was　to　be　one　of　the　grandest　and　finest　houses　that　thought　could
conceive；　much　finer；　in　true　reality；　than　that　vast　palace　of
sandstone　with　the　porte　cochere　and　the　sweeping　conservatories　that
you　afterwards　built　in　the　costlier　part　of　the　city。

But　if　you　have　half　forgotten　Mariposa；　and　long　since　lost　the　way
to　it；　you　are　only　like　the　greater　part　of　the　men　here　in　this
Mausoleum　Club　in　the　city。　Would　you　believe　it　that　practically
every　one　of　them　came　from　Mariposa　once　upon　a　time；　and　that　there
isn't　one　of　them　that　doesn't　sometimes　dream　in　the　dull　quiet　of
the　long　evening　here　in　the　club；　that　some　day　he　will　go　back　and
see　the　place。

They　all　do。　Only　they're　half　ashamed　to　own　it。

Ask　your　neighbour　there　at　the　next　table　whether　the　partridge　that
they　sometimes　serve　to　you　here　can　be　compared　for　a　moment　to　the
birds　that　he　and　you；　or　he　and　some　one　else；　used　to　shoot　as　boys
in　the　spruce　thickets　along　the　lake。　Ask　him　if　he　ever　tasted　duck
that　could　for　a　moment　be　compared　to　the　black　ducks　in　the　rice
marsh　along　the　Ossawippi。　And　as　for　fish；　and　fishing；no；　don't
ask　him　about　that；　for　if　he　ever　starts　telling　you　of　the　chub
they　used　to　catch　below　the　mill　dam　and　the　green　bass　that　used　to
lie　in　the　water…shadow　of　the　rocks　beside　the　Indian's　Island；　not
even　the　long　dull　evening　in　this　club　would　be　long　enough　for　the
telling　of　it。

But　no　wonder　they　don't　know　about　the　five　o'clock　train　for
Mariposa。　Very　few　people　know　about　it。　Hundreds　of　them　know　that
there　is　a　train　that　goes　out　at　five　o'clock；　but　they　mistake　it。
Ever　so　many　of　them　think　it's　just　a　suburban　train。　Lots　of　people
that　take　it　every　day　think　it's　only　the　train　to　the　golf　grounds；
but　the　joke　is　that　after　it　passes　out　of　the　city　and　the　suburbs
and　the　golf　grounds；　it　turns　itself　little　by　little　into　the
Mariposa　train；　thundering　and　pounding　towards　the　north　with
hemlock　sparks　pouring　out　into　the　darkness　from　the　funnel　of　it。

Of　course　you　can't　tell　it　just　at　first。　All　those　people　that　are
crowding　into　it　with　golf　clubs；　and　wearing　knickerbockers　and　flat
caps；　would　deceive　anybody。　That　crowd　of　suburban　people　going　home
on　commutation　tickets　and　sometimes　standing　thick　in　the　aisles；
those　are；　of　course；　not　Mariposa　people。　But　look　round　a　little
bit　and　you'll　find　them　easily　enough。　Here　and　there　in　the　crowd
those　people　with　the　clothes　that　are　perfectly　all　right　and　yet
look　odd　in　some　way；　the　women　with　the　peculiar　hats　and　thewhat
do　you　say？last　year's　fashions？　Ah　yes；　of　course；　that　must　be
it。

Anyway；　those　are　the　Mariposa　people　all　right　enough。　That　man
with　the　two…dollar　panama　and　the　glaring　spectacles　is　one　of　the
greatest　judges　that　ever　adorned　the　bench　of　Missinaba　County。　That
clerical　gentleman　with　the　wide　black　hat；　who　is　explaining　to　the
man　with　him　the　marvellous　mechanism　of　the　new　air　brake　（one　of
the　most　conspicuous　illustrations　of　the　divine　structure　of　the
physical　universe）；　surely　you　have　seen　him　before。　Mariposa　people！
Oh　yes；　there　are　any　number　of　them　on　the　train　every　day。

But　of　course　you　hardly　recognize　them　while　the　train　is　still
passing　through　the　suburbs　and　the　golf　district　and　the　outlying
parts　of　the　city　area。　But　wait　a　little；　and　you　will　see　that　when
the　city　is　well　behind　you；　bit　by　bit　the　train　changes　its
character。　The　electric　locomotive　that　took　you　through　the　city
tunnels　is　off　now　and　the　old　wood　engine　is　hitched　on　in　its
place。　I　suppose；　very　probably；　you　haven't　seen　one　of　these　wood
engines　since　you　were　a　boy　forty　years　ago；the　old　engine　with　a
wide　top　like　a　hat　on　its　funnel；　and　with　sparks　enough　to　light　up
a　suit　for　damages　once　in　every　mile。

Do　you　see；　too；　that　the　trim　little　cars　that　came　out　of　the　city
on　the　electric　suburban　express　are　being　discarded　now　at　the　way
stations；　one　by　one；　and　in　their　place　is　the　old　familiar　car　with
the　stuff　cushions　in　red　plush　（how　gorgeous　it　once　seemed！）　and
with　a　box　stove　set　up　in　one　end　of　it？　The　stove　is　burning
furiously　at　its　sticks