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Anderson, Sherwood, 1876-1941

"Poor White"

He went into a big waiting-room and sat on a bench in a corner. After
a time he arose and going to a stand bought a newspaper, but did not read
it. It lay unopened on the bench beside him. The station was filled with
men, women, and children who moved restlessly about. A train came in and a
swarm of people departed, were carried into faraway parts of the country,
while new people came into the station from a nearby street. He looked at
those who were going out into the train shed. "It may be that some of them
are going to that town in Iowa where that fellow lives," he thought. It was
odd how thoughts of the unknown Iowa man clung to him.
One day, during the same summer and but a few months earlier, Hugh had gone
to the town of Sandusky, Ohio, on the same mission that had brought him to
Pittsburgh. How many parts for the hay-loading machine had been cast and
later thrown away! They did the work, but he decided each time that he had
infringed on the other man's machine. When that happened he did not consult
Tom. Something within him warned him against doing that. He destroyed the
part. "It wasn't what I wanted," he told Tom who had grown discouraged with
his son-in-law but did not openly voice his dissatisfaction. "Oh, well,
he's lost his pep, marriage has taken the life out of him. We'll have to
get some one else on the job," he said to Steve, who had entirely recovered
from the wound received at the hands of Joe Wainsworth.


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