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Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941

"Poor White"

Steve's money, it was declared, had been used to set her
up in business. The two stories offered unlimited opportunity for expansion
in the blacksmith's mind, but while he was preparing himself to do what
he called bringing the two men down in the sight and hearing of the whole
town, a thing happened that upset his plans. His son Fizzy Fry left his
place as clerk in the hotel and went to work in the corn-cutting machine
factory. One day his father saw him coming from the factory at noon with a
dozen other workmen. The young man had on overalls and smoked a pipe. When
he saw his father he stopped, and when the other men had gone on, explained
his sudden transformation. "I'm in the shop now, but I won't be there
long," he said proudly. "You know Tom Butterworth stays at the hotel? Well,
he's given me a chance. I got to stay in the shop for a while to learn
about things. After that I'm to have a chance as shipping clerk. Then I'll
be a traveler on the road." He looked at his father and his voice broke.
"You haven't thought very much of me, but I'm not so bad," he said. "I
don't want to be a sissy, but I'm not very strong. I worked at the hotel
because there wasn't anything else I thought I could do."
Peter Fry went home to his house but could not eat the food he had cooked
for himself on the tiny stove in the kitchen. He went outdoors and stood
for a long time, looking out across the cow-pasture Tom Butterworth and
Steve Hunter had bought and that they proposed should become a part of the
rapidly growing city.


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