I never happened to run across him. Don't know him at all."
Bob put down Oldham's manifest hatred to pettiness of disposition.
Even from Merker, the philosophic storekeeper, Bob obtained scant
comfort.
"Men like you, with ability, youth, energy," said Merker, "producing
nothing, just conserving, saving. Conditions should be such that the
possibility of fire, of trespass, of all you fellows guard against,
should be eliminated. Then you could supply steam, energy,
accomplishment, instead of being merely the lubrication. It's an
economic waste."
Bob left the mill-yards half-depressed, half-amused. All his people had
become alien. He opposed them in nothing, his work in no way interfered
with their activities; yet, without his volition, and probably without
their realization, he was already looked upon as one to be held at arms'
length. It saddened Bob, as it does every right-thinking young man when
he arrives at setting up his own standards of conduct and his own ways
of life. He longed with a great longing, which at the same time he
realized to be hopeless, to make these people feel as he felt.
Pages:
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631