The Rise Of Silas Lapham By William Dean Howells Part 1 - William Dean Howells (best e reader for academics txt) 📗

Society Everywhere,  And Getting himself

Presented at Several Courts,  At A Period When It

Was A Distinction To Do So.  He Had Always Sketched,

And With His Father'S Leave He Fixed himself At Rome,

Where He Remained studying art And Rounding the Being

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Inherited from His Yankee Progenitors,  Till There

Was Very Little Left Of The Ancestral Angularities.

After Ten Years He Came Home And Painted that Portrait

Of His Father.  It Was Very Good,  If A Little Amateurish,

And He Might Have Made Himself A Name As A Painter

Of Portraits If He Had Not Had So Much Money.  But He

Had Plenty Of Money,  Though By This Time He Was Married

And Beginning to Have A Family.  It Was Absurd For Him

To Paint Portraits For Pay,  And Ridiculous To Paint

Them For Nothing; So He Did Not Paint Them At All.

He Continued a Dilettante,  Never Quite Abandoning his Art,

But Working at It Fitfully,  And Talking more About It

Than Working at It.  He Had His Theory Of Titian'S Method;

And Now And Then A Bostonian Insisted upon Buying a

Picture Of Him.  After A While He Hung It More And More

Inconspicuously,  And Said Apologetically,  "Oh Yes! That'S

One Of Bromfield Corey'S Things.  It Has Nice Qualities,

But It'S Amateurish."

 

In Process Of Time The Money Seemed less Abundant.

There Were Shrinkages Of One Kind And Another,

And Living had Grown Much More Expensive And Luxurious.

For Many Years He Talked about Going back To Rome,  But He

Never Went,  And His Children Grew Up In the Usual Way.

Before He Knew It His Son Had Him Out To His Class-Day

Spread At Harvard,  And Then He Had His Son On His Hands.

The Son Made Various Unsuccessful Provisions For Himself,

And Still Continued upon His Father'S Hands,  To Their

Common Dissatisfaction,  Though It Was Chiefly The Younger

Who Repined.  He Had The Roman Nose And The Energy Without

The Opportunity,  And At One Of The Reversions His Father

Said To Him,  "You Ought Not To Have That Nose,  Tom;

Then You Would Do Very Well.  You Would Go And Travel,

As I Did."

 

 

 

 

 

Lapham And His Wife Continued talking after He Had

Quelled the Disturbance In his Daughters' Room Overhead;

And Their Talk Was Not Altogether Of The New House.

 

"I Tell You," He Said,  "If I Had That Fellow In the

Business With Me I Would Make A Man Of Him."

 

"Well,  Silas Lapham," Returned his Wife,  "I Do Believe

You'Ve Got Mineral Paint On The Brain.  Do You Suppose

A Fellow Like Young Corey,  Brought Up The Way He'S Been,

Would Touch Mineral Paint With A Ten-Foot Pole?"

 

"Why Not?" Haughtily Asked the Colonel.

 

"Well,  If You Don'T Know Already,  There'S No Use Trying

To Tell You."

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The Coreys Had Always Had A House At Nahant,  But After

Letting it For A Season Or Two They Found They Could

Get On Without It,  And Sold It At The Son'S Instance,

Who Foresaw That If Things Went On As They Were Going,

The Family Would Be Straitened to The Point Of Changing

Their Mode Of Life Altogether.  They Began To Be

Of The People Of Whom It Was Said That They Stayed

In Town Very Late; And When The Ladies Did Go Away,

It Was For A Brief Summering in this Place And That.

The Father Remained at Home Altogether; And The Son Joined

Them In the Intervals Of His Enterprises,  Which Occurred

Only Too Often.

 

At Bar Harbour,  Where He Now Went To Find Them,

After His Winter In texas,  He Confessed to His Mother

That There Seemed no Very Good Opening there For Him.

He Might Do As Well As Loring stanton,  But He Doubted

If Stanton Was Doing very Well.  Then He Mentioned

The New Project Which He Had Been Thinking over.

She Did Not Deny That There Was Something in it,

But She Could Not Think Of Any Young Man Who Had Gone

Into Such A Business As That,  And It Appeared to Her That

He Might As Well Go Into A Patent Medicine Or A Stove-Polish.

 

"There Was One Of His Hideous Advertisements," She Said,

"Painted on A Reef That We Saw As We Came Down."

 

Corey Smiled.  "Well,  I Suppose,  If It Was In a Good State

Of Preservation,  That Is Proof Positive Of The Efficacy

Of The Paint On The Hulls Of Vessels."

 

"It'S Very Distasteful To Me,  Tom," Said His Mother;

And If There Was Something else In her Mind,  She Did

Not Speak More Plainly Of It Than To Add: "It'S Not Only

The Kind Of Business,  But The Kind Of People You Would

Be Mixed up With."

 

"I Thought You Didn'T Find Them So Very Bad," Suggested corey.

 

"I Hadn'T Seen Them In nankeen Square Then."

 

"You Can See Them On The Water Side Of Beacon Street

When You Go Back."

 

Then He Told Of His Encounter With The Lapham Family

In Their New House.  At The End His Mother Merely Said,

"It Is Getting very Common Down There," And She Did Not

Try To Oppose Anything further To His Scheme.

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The Young Man Went To See Colonel Lapham Shortly After His

Return To Boston.  He Paid His Visit At Lapham'S Office,

And If He Had Studied simplicity In his Summer Dress

He Could Not Have Presented himself In a Figure More

To The Mind Of A Practical Man.  His Hands And Neck

Still Kept The Brown Of The Texan Suns And Winds,

And He Looked as Business-Like As Lapham Himself.

 

He Spoke Up Promptly And Briskly In the Outer Office,

And Caused the Pretty Girl To Look Away From Her Copying

At Him.  "Is Mr. Lapham In?" He Asked; And After That

Moment For Reflection Which An Array Of Book-Keepers

So Addressed likes To Give The Inquirer,  A Head Was Lifted

From A Ledger And Nodded toward The Inner Office.

 

Lapham Had Recognised the Voice,  And He Was Standing,

In Considerable Perplexity,  To Receive Corey,  When The Young

Man Opened his Painted glass Door.  It Was A Hot Afternoon,

And Lapham Was In his Shirt Sleeves.  Scarcely A Trace

Of The Boastful Hospitality With Which He Had Welcomed

Corey To His House A Few Days Before Lingered in his

Present Address.  He Looked at The Young Man'S Face,

As If He Expected him To Despatch Whatever Unimaginable

Affair He Had Come Upon.

 

"Won'T You Sit Down? How Are You? You'Ll Excuse Me,"

He Added,  In brief Allusion To The Shirt-Sleeves. "I'M

About Roasted."

 

Corey Laughed.  "I Wish You'D Let Me Take Off My Coat."

 

"Why,  Take It Off!" Cried the Colonel,  With Instant Pleasure.

There Is Something in human Nature Which Causes The Man

In His Shirt-Sleeves To Wish All Other Men To Appear

In The Same Deshabille.

 

"I Will,  If You Ask Me After I'Ve Talked with You Two Minutes,"

Said The Young Fellow,  Companionably Pulling up The Chair Offered

Him Toward The Desk Where Lapham Had Again Seated himself.

"But Perhaps You Haven'T Got Two Minutes To Give Me?"

 

"Oh Yes,  I Have," Said The Colonel.  "I Was Just Going

To Knock Off.  I Can Give You Twenty,  And Then I Shall

Have Fifteen Minutes To Catch The Boat."

 

"All Right," Said Corey.  "I Want You To Take Me Into

The Mineral Paint Business."

 

The Colonel Sat Dumb.  He Twisted his Thick Neck,

And Looked round At The Door To See If It Was Shut.

He Would Not Have Liked to Have Any Of Those Fellows

Outside Hear Him,  But There Is No Saying what Sum Of Money

He Would Not Have Given If His Wife Had Been There To Hear

What Corey Had Just Said.

 

"I Suppose," Continued the Young Man,  "I Could Have Got

Several People Whose Names You Know To Back My Industry

And Sobriety,  And Say A Word For My Business Capacity. 

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But I Thought I Wouldn'T Trouble Anybody For Certificates

Till I Found Whether There Was A Chance,  Or The Ghost Of One,

Of Your Wanting me.  So I Came Straight To You."

 

Lapham Gathered himself Together As Well As He Could.

He Had Not Yet Forgiven Corey For Mrs. Lapham'S Insinuation

That He Would Feel Himself Too Good For The Mineral

Paint Business; And Though He Was Dispersed by That

Astounding shot At First,  He Was Not Going to Let Any One

Even Hypothetically Despise His Paint With Impunity.

"How Do You Think I Am Going to Take You On?" They Took

On Hands At The Works; And Lapham Put It As If Corey

Were A Hand Coming to Him For Employment.  Whether He

Satisfied himself By This Or Not,  He Reddened a Little

After He Had Said It.

 

Corey Answered,  Ignorant Of The Offence: "I Haven'T

A Very Clear Idea,  I'M Afraid; But I'Ve Been Looking

A Little Into The Matter From The Outside"

 

"I Hope You Hain'T Been Paying any Attention To That

Fellow'S Stuff In the Events?" Lapham Interrupted.

Since Bartley'S Interview Had Appeared,  Lapham Had

Regarded it With Very Mixed feelings.  At First It

Gave Him A Glow Of Secret Pleasure,  Blended with Doubt

As To How His Wife Would Like The Use Bartley Had Made

Of Her In it.  But She Had Not Seemed to Notice It Much,

And Lapham Had Experienced the Gratitude Of The Man

Who Escapes.  Then His Girls Had Begun To Make Fun Of It;

And Though He Did Not Mind Penelope'S Jokes Much,  He Did

Not Like To See That Irene'S Gentility Was Wounded.

Business Friends Met Him With The Kind Of Knowing smile

About It That Implied their Sense Of The Fraudulent

Character Of Its Praise--The Smile Of Men Who Had Been

There And Who Knew How It Was Themselves.  Lapham Had His

Misgivings As To How His Clerks And Underlings Looked at It;

He Treated them With Stately Severity For A While After