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Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941

"Poor White"


Hall. It was the first time such a thing had happened and it upset him a
little. He laughed and made a joke of it. "Don't get high and mighty," he
said, and turned to wink at the men loafing in the shop. Later he thought
about the matter and was sorry he had not accepted the new title without
protest. "Well, I'm foreman, and a lot of the young fellows I've always
known and fooled around with will be working under me," he told himself. "I
can't be getting thick with them."
Ed walked along the street feeling very keenly the importance of his new
place in the community. Other young fellows in the factory were getting a
dollar and a half a day. At the end of the week he got twenty-five dollars,
almost three times as much. The money was an indication of superiority.
There could be no doubt about that. Ever since he had been a boy he had
heard older men speak respectfully of men who possessed money. "Get on
in the world," they said to young men, when they talked seriously. Among
themselves they did not pretend that they did not want money. "It's money
makes the mare go," they said.
Down Main Street to the New York Central tracks Ed went, and then turned
out of the street and disappeared into the station. The evening train had
passed and the place was deserted. He went into the dimly lighted
waiting-room. An oil lamp, turned low, and fastened by a bracket to the
wall made a little circle of light in a corner.


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