The Making of Americans, Being a History of a Family's Progress (7 page)

     You see, it is just an ordinary middle class tradition we must use to understand this family's progress. There must be no aspiring thoughts inside us, there must be a feeling always in us of being in a kind of way in business always honest, there must be in a kind of ordinary way always there inside us the sense of decent enough ways of living for us. Yes I am strong to declare that I have it, here in the heart of this high, aspiring, excitement loving people who despise it,—I throw myself open to the public,—I take a simple interest in the ordinary kind of families, histories, I believe in simple middle class monotonous tradition, in a way in honest enough business methods.
     Middle-class, middle-class, I know no one of my friends who will admit it, one can find no one among you all to belong to it, I know that here we are to be democratic and aristocratic and not have it, for middle class is sordid material unillusioned unaspiring and always monotonous for it is always there and to be always repeated, and yet I am strong, and I am right, and I know it, and I say it to you and you are to listen to it, yes here in the heart of a people who despise it, that a material middle class who know they are it, with their straightened bond of family to control it, is the one thing always human, vital, and worthy it— worthy that all monotonously shall repeat it,—and from which has always sprung, and all who really look can see it, the very best the world can ever know, and everywhere we always need it.
     The Herslands were a western family. David Hersland as a young man had gone far into the new country to make his money. He had succeeded very well there in making money. He had settled down in Gossols and had lived there for twenty years and more now.
     He had made a big fortune. David Hersland was in some ways a splendid kind of person.
     Mr. Hersland had brought his wife to Gossols with him. He had married her in Bridgepoint when his fortune was just beginning. His children had all been born in Gossols to him. They were really western, all of them, all through them. There were three of them, Martha, Alfred, David, there had been two others but they had died as little children. Now Martha, after many changes, was home again with him. Alfred who had never yet been any trouble to him was gone to Bridgepoint to marry Julia Dehning and then there as a lawyer to win for himself his own way of living. And the youngest David was soon to follow Alfred to Bridgepoint, to go to college there and to decide in him, as his way always had been and no one could ever understand him, from day to day what life meant to him to make it worth his living.
     And so when Alfred Hersland first met Julia Dehning, his family father mother Martha and David were still living there in Gossols. The mother was already now a little ailing, the father had no longer his old strength for living, Martha had come back out of her trouble to them, Alfred had gone away and left them, David was very soon to follow him. They had their old place in Gossols to live in but it had not the beauty and the wonder now it had had all these years for them. Joy was a little dim inside now for all of them.
     For many years it had been full of content, this home they had always lived in. The Herslands had never had a city house to be restless around them and to give restlessness inside to them. They had all these years been in the place they now lived in.
     This house they had always lived in was not in the part of Gossols where the other rich people mostly were living. It was an old place left over from the days when Gossols was just beginning. It was grounds about ten acres large, fenced in with just ordinary kind of rail fencing, it had a not very large wooden house standing on the rising ground in the center with a winding avenue of eucalyptus, blue gum, leading from it to the gateway. There was, just around the house, a pleasant garden, in front were green lawns not very carefully attended and with large trees in the center whose roots always sucked up for themselves almost all the moisture, water in this dry western country could not be used just to keep things green and pretty and so, often, the grass was very dry in summer, but it was very pleasant then lying there watching the birds, black in the bright sunlight and sailing, and the firm white summer clouds breaking away from the horizon and slowly moving. It was very wonderful there in the summer with the dry heat, and the sun burning, and the hot earth for sleeping; and then in the winter with the rain, and the north wind blowing that would bend the trees and often break them, and the owls in the walls scaring you with their tumbling.
     All the rest of the ten acres was for hay and a little vegetable gardening and an orchard with all the kinds of fruit trees that could be got there to do any growing.
     In the summer it was good for generous sweating to help the men make the hay into bails for its preserving and it was well for ones growing to eat radishes pulled with the black earth sticking to them and to chew the mustard and find roots with all kinds of funny flavors in them, and to fill ones hat with fruit and sit on the dry ploughed ground and eat and think and sleep and read and dream and never hear them when they would all be calling; and then when the quail came it was fun to go shooting, and then when the wind and the rain and the ground were ready to help seeds in their growing, it was good fun to help plant them, and the wind would be so strong it would blow the leaves and branches of the trees down around them and you could shout and work and get wet and be all soaking and run out full into the strong wind and let it dry you, in between the gusts of rain that left you soaking. It was fun all the things that happened all the year there then.
     And all around the whole fence that shut these joys in was a hedge of roses, not wild, they had been planted, but now they were very sweet and small and abundant and all the people from that part of Gossols came to pick the leaves to make sweet scented jars and pillows, and always all the Herslands were indignant and they would let loose the dogs to bark and scare them but still the roses grew and always all the people came and took them. And altogether the Herslands always loved it there in their old home in Gossols.
     David Hersland's mother was that good foreign woman who was strong to bear many children and always after was very strong to lead them. The old woman was a great mountain. Her back even in her older age was straight, flat, and firmly supporting. She had it in her to uphold around her, her man, her family, and everybody else whom she saw needing directing. She was a powerful woman and strong to bear many children and always after she would be strong to lead them. She had a few weak ways in her toward some of them, mostly toward one of them who had a bad way of eating too much and being weak and loving, and his mother never could be strong to correct him, no she could not be strong to let his brothers try and save him, and so he died a glutton, but the old mother was dead too by then and she did not have the sorrow of seeing what came to him.
     Always this strong foreign woman was great and good and directing, She led her family out of the old world into the new one and there they learned through her and by themselves, almost every one of them, how to make for themselves each one a sufficient fortune.
     Yes it was she who lead them all out of the old world into the new one. The father was not a man ever to do any such leading. He was a butcher by trade. He was a very gentle creature in his nature. He loved to sit and think and he loved to be important in religion. He was a small man, well enough made, with a nice face, blue eyes, and a little lightish colored beard. He loved his eating and a quiet life, he loved his Martha and his children, and mostly he liked all the world.
     It would never come to him to think of a new world. He never wanted to lose anything he ever had had around him. He did not want to go to a new world. He would go,—yes to be sure it would be very nice there, only it was very nice here and here he was important in religion,—and he liked his village and his shop and everything he had known all his life there, and the house they had had ever since he married his good Martha and settled himself to be comfortable together with her,—and now they had their children. Yes, alright, perhaps, maybe she was right, there was no reason, the neighbors had all gotten so rich going to America, there was no reason they shouldn't go and get rich there, alright he would go if his Martha talked about it so much to him, alright, his Martha could fix it anyway she liked it, yes it would be nice to have all of them get rich there. He would go, yes to be sure it would be nice there, but it was very nice here and he had his religion, and he liked his village and his shop and everything he had known all his life here, and the house they had always lived in since he had married his good Martha, and they had settled to be so comfortable there and to stay there, and now they had all those good children. But, yes, alright, perhaps, maybe she was right, there was no reason, the neighbors had all gotten so rich going to America, there was no reason they shouldn't all get rich too there, yes it would be very nice then, to have them all go and get rich there. Alright he would go, they would all go and get rich there, Martha could fix it if she wanted so badly to have it, she would be always talking to him about it. Martha could fix it anyway she liked it, yes it would be nice to have all of them get rich there like the neighbors who were writing all the time how rich they had it, and it would be good for the children to have it, and to send money to some of the old folks who would need it, the way the neighbors always did. Yes the neighbors always were sending money to their father when he needed to have it. Alright they would all go, his Martha could fix it anyway she liked it. If she wanted he would do it.
     Martha began then and she soon sold their business and the things on the little farm and in the shop and in their house, and kept only the few things she knew they needed. Her man liked it very well then this being so important and he could use it as he liked to do religion. He liked it very well to see his wife do all this selling. He liked the feeling he had in him when they were all so busy buying and selling all around him, but when the people came to take the things he had been so important about when his wife was selling, then it was a very different feeling he had in him. It was hard for him then the ending. He had liked it very well while they were selling. He had liked the feeling of all the doing and the moving and the being important to all of them and everybody always talking.
     It had been very pleasant to him. He never really had to do any deciding, and he had all the emotion and the important feeling, it was just like in religion.
     But it was not so pleasant for him when the people came and took the things it had been so pleasant selling. It hurt him to have the things he loved go away from him, and he wanted to give back the money to all of them so that he could keep them. But he knew that that could not be done and he still keep his important feeling that was so pleasant to him; and then too Martha would not let him. He said nothing to the people when they came to take the things it had been so pleasant selling to them, he was only very slow in giving the things to them. He would lose them so that it was hard to find them but the children and Martha always found them.
     Almost everything was sold and the people came and took them. He could not stop them. Now the things did not belong to him any more. Nothing now belonged to him. There was another man in his shop and he acted, in standing there and in selling, just as if it had all always belonged to him. It made poor David Hersland very sad to see him standing there, chopping, talking, selling, wiping his hands on his apron, acting as if it had all always belonged to him, now when there was no place anymore anywhere for Hersland, a place that really belonged to him.
     It was too late now, he had done as his Martha had made him. He would have liked to buy back all that they had been selling. It was very hard to keep him moving. It was hard to start him and it was almost harder to keep him going. Now he wanted to settle down again and keep on staying. Perhaps the man who had bought his shop would sell it back to him if they would pay him. “No David,” his wife said to him. “We've got to go now, don't talk so foolishly about buying when we just hardly have got through selling. No David, don't you see how the children are all so excited about going. How can you talk so when we have to be working every minute and in two days now we've got to be moving.”
     Yes it was hard to start him but it was almost harder to keep him going. His Martha worked hard with him to keep him moving. She had to tell it to him very often that now there was no other way for him to be doing. Now they were started they just had to keep going.
     Yes it was very hard to keep him moving. It was hard to start him but it was even harder to keep him going. But now it was all done and they were all of them ready to do the last beginning. They were all already to leave the next morning. All the things they had kept had been put in a wagon, the littlest children were to ride on top of them, the rest were to walk beside them until they came to the city by the water where they would find the ship that was to take them to that new world where they were all to make a fortune.
     They started very well the next morning, with all the people to say good-by to them and with all the things they needed piled in the wagon, the littlest children set on top of them, the rest of them to walk beside them. The mother was like a great mountain, good and firm and directing, and as always able to uphold around her, her man, her children, and everybody who needed directing, and he was feeling it once more good inside him to be important as if it were in religion, and all the talking and moving and everybody so excited about him. It was very pleasant just then for him, and then the wagon began moving, and some went a little way with them and then they all left them and then it was only the family and the driver of the wagon who were with him and all the pleasant feeling left him.
     They went on and on and then suddenly they missed him, the father was not there any longer with them. The mother went back patiently to find him. He was sitting at the first turning, looking at the village below him, at all the things he was leaving, and he simply could not endure it in him.