River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1920-02-12

nothing George could do would ever
change this bitterness of Eugene. Only
Georges mother could have changed it.
And as Eugene fell asleep that
night, thinking thus bitterly Of
George, George in the hospital was
thinking Of Eugene. He thought of Eu-
gene Morgan and of the Major; they
seemed to be the same person for
awhile, but he manged to disentangle
them and even to understand why he
had confused them. Long ago his
grandfather had been the most strik-
ing figure of success in the town: "As
rich as Major Ambersonr 2 they used to
say. Now it was Eugene. "If / had
Eugene MGrgan's money" he would
hear the workmen day-dreaming at the
chemical works; or, IF Eugene Nor
gan had hold of this place you'd see
things hum !" And the boarders at the
table d'hote spoke of ''the Morgan
Place" as an eighteenth-century
Erenchman spoke of Versailles. Like
his uncle, George had perceived that
the Morgan Place was the new Am
berson mansion. His revere went back
to the palatial days of the mansion, in
his boyhood, when he would gallop his
pony up the driveway and order the
darkey stablemen about, while they
whooped and obeyed, and his grandpa
Their, observing from a window, would
laugh and call out to him: ''That's
right, Georgia. Make those lazy ras-
Gals jump" He remembered his gay
young uncles, and how the town was
eager concerning everything about
them, and about himself. What clean,
pretty town it had been! And in his
reverie he saw like pageant before
him the magnificence of the Amber
sons-its passing, and the passing of
the Ambersons themselves. They had
been slowly engulfed without knowing
how TO prevent it, and almost without
knowing what was happening to them.
The family lot, in the shabby old quar-
ter, out at the cemetery, held most of
them now; and the name was swept
altogether from the new city. The
Ambersons had passed, and the new
people would pass, and the new people
that came after them, and the next
new ones, and the next-and the
next
He had begun to murmur, and the
man on duty as night nurse for the
ward came and bent over him.
ssDid Won want Sometbinp2"
There's nothing in this family bust
ness" George told him confidentially.
SEVEN George Washington is only
something in book"
Eugene read a report Of the accident
in the next mornings paper. He was
on the train, having just left for New
York, on business, and with less leis-
ure would probably have overlooked
the obscure item:
LEGS BROKEN.
G. A. Minafer, an employee of the Ak
ers Chemical company, was run down by
an automobile yesterday at the corner of
Tennessee and Main and had both legs
broken. Minafer was to blame for the
/. accident. according 10 Patrolnlan F. A.
Kax. who witnessed the affair. The auto
mobile was a small one driven by Herbert
CottIeman of 2173 Noble avenue, who stat
ed that he was making less than four
miles an hour. Minafer is said to belong
to a family formerly of considerable prom
inence in tn. city. lie was taken 70 the
City hospital, where physicians stated
later that he was suffering from internal
injuries besides the fracture of his legs,
bat might recover.
Eugene read the item twice, then
tossed the paper upon the opposite seat
of his compartment, and sat looking
out of the window. His feeling toward
George was changed not jot by his
human pity for Georges human pain
and injury. He thought of Georges
tall and graceful figure, and he shiv-
cred, but his bitterness was untouched.
He had never blamed Isabel for the
weakness which had cost them the few
years of happiness they might have
had together; he had put the blame
all on the son, and it stayed there.
He began to- think poignantly of Isa-
bel. He closed his eyes and saw her
as she had been long ago. He saw the
brown-eyed, brown-haired, proud, gen.
tie, laughing girl he had known when
first he came to town, boy just out
OF tie State college. He remembered
AS he had remembered ten thousand
times before-the look she gave him
when her brother George introduced
him to her at picnic; it was 'like
hazel starlight" he had written her, In
a poem, afterward. He remembered
his first call at the Anderson mansion,
and what great parsonage she
seemed, at home in that magnificence;
and yet so gay and friendly. He re-
membered the first time he had danced
with her-and the old waltz song be-
gan to beat in his ears and in his
heart.
All the way to New York it seemed
TO him that Isabel was near him, and
ha wrote of her 70 Lucy from his hotel