sunshine sketches of a little town-第23部分

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Zena　out　in　his　canoe　thirty…one　times。　Allowing　an　average　of　two
miles　for　each　evening；　Pupkin　had　paddled　Zena　sixty…two　miles；　or
more　than　a　hundred　thousand　yards。　That　surely　was　something。

He　had　played　tennis　with　her　on　sixteen　afternoons。　Three　times　he
had　left　his　tennis　racket　up　at　the　judge's　house　in　Zena's　charge；
and　once　he　had；　with　her　full　consent；　left　his　bicycle　there　all
night。　This　must　count　for　something。　No　girl　could　trifle　with　a　man
to　the　extent　of　having　his　bicycle　leaning　against　the　verandah　post
all　night　and　mean　nothing　by　it。

More　than　thathe　had　been　to　tea　at　the　judge's　house　fourteen
times；　and　seven　times　he　had　been　asked　by　Lilian　Drone　to　the
rectory　when　Zena　was　coming；　and　five　times　by　Nora　Gallagher　to　tea
at　the　doctor's　house　because　Zena　was　there。

Altogether　he　had　eaten　so　many　meals　where　Zena　was　that　his　meal
ticket　at　the　Mariposa　lasted　nearly　double　its　proper　time；　and　the
face　of　Sadie；　the　dining…room　girl；　had　grown　to　wear　a　look　of
melancholy　resignation；　sadder　than　romance。

Still　more　than　that；　Pupkin　had　bought　for　Zena；　reckoning　it
altogether；　about　two　buckets　of　ice　cream　and　perhaps　half　a　bushel
of　chocolate。　Not　that　Pupkin　grudged　the　expense　of　it。　On　the
contrary；　over　and　above　the　ice　cream　and　the　chocolate　he　had
bought　her　a　white　waistcoat　and　a　walking　stick　with　a　gold　top；　a
lot　of　new　neckties　and　a　pair　of　patent　leather　bootsthat　is；
they　were　all　bought　on　account　of　her；　which　is　the　same　thing。

Add　to　all　this　that　Pupkin　and　Zena　had　been　to　the　Church　of
England　Church　nearly　every　Sunday　evening　for　two　months；　and　one
evening　they　had　even　gone　to　the　Presbyterian　Church　〃for　fun；〃
which；　if　you　know　Mariposa；　you　will　realize　to　be　a　wild　sort　of
escapade　that　ought　to　speak　volumes。

Yet　in　spite　of　this；　Pupkin　felt　that　the　thing　was　hopeless：　which
only　illustrates　the　dreadful　ups　and　downs；　the　wild　alternations　of
hope　and　despair　that　characterise　an　exceptional　affair　of　this
sort。

Yes；　it　was　hopeless。

Every　time　that　Pupkin　watched　Zena　praying　in　church；　he　knew　that
she　was　too　good　for　him。　Every　time　that　he　came　to　call　for　her　and
found　her　reading　Browning　and　Omar　Khayyam　he　knew　that　she　was　too
clever　for　him。　And　every　time　that　he　saw　her　at　all　he　realized
that　she　was　too　beautiful　for　him。

You　see；　Pupkin　knew　that　he　wasn't　a　hero。　When　Zena　would　clasp　her
hands　and　talk　rapturously　about　crusaders　and　soldiers　and　firemen
and　heroes　generally；　Pupkin　knew　just　where　he　came　in。　Not　in　it；
that　was　all。　If　a　war　could　have　broken　out　in　Mariposa；　or　the
judge's　house　been　invaded　by　the　Germans；　he　might　have　had　a
chance；　but　as　it　washopeless。

Then　there　was　Zena's　father。　Heaven　knows　Pupkin　tried　hard　to
please　the　judge。　He　agreed　with　every　theory　that　Judge　Pepperleigh
advanced；　and　that　took　a　pretty　pliable　intellect　in　itself。　They
denounced　female　suffrage　one　day　and　they　favoured　it　the　next。　One
day　the　judge　would　claim　that　the　labour　movement　was　eating　out　the
heart　of　the　country；　and　the　next　day　he　would　hold　that　the　hope　of
the　world　lay　in　the　organization　of　the　toiling　masses。　Pupkin
shifted　his　opinions　like　the　glass　in　a　kaleidoscope。　Indeed；　the
only　things　on　which　he　was　allowed　to　maintain　a　steadfast
conviction　were　the　purity　of　the　Conservative　party　of　Canada　and
the　awful　wickedness　of　the　recall　of　judges。

But　with　all　that　the　judge　was　hardly　civil　to　Pupkin。　He　hadn't
asked　him　to　the　house　till　Zena　brought　him　there；　though；　as　a
rule；　all　the　bank　clerks　in　Mariposa　treated　Judge　Pepperleigh's
premises　as　their　own。　He　used　to　sit　and　sneer　at　Pupkin　after　he
had　gone　till　Zena　would　throw　down　the　Pioneers　of　Tecumseh　Township
in　a　temper　and　flounce　off　the　piazza　to　her　room。　After　which　the
judge's　manner　would　change　instantly　and　he　would　relight　his　corn
cob　pipe　and　sit　and　positively　beam　with　contentment。　In　all　of
which　there　was　something　so　mysterious　as　to　prove　that　Mr。　Pupkin's
chances　were　hopeless。

Nor　was　that　all　of　it。　Pupkin's　salary　was　eight　hundred　dollars　a
year　and　the　Exchange　Bank　limit　for　marriage　was　a　thousand。

I　suppose　you　are　aware　of　the　grinding　capitalistic　tyranny　of　the
banks　in　Mariposa　whereby　marriage　is　put　beyond　the　reach　of　ever　so
many　mature　and　experienced　men　of　nineteen　and　twenty　and
twenty…one；　who　are　compelled　to　go　on　eating　on　a　meal　ticket　at　the
Mariposa　House　and　living　over　the　bank　to　suit　the　whim　of　a　group
of　capitalists。

Whenever　Pupkin　thought　of　this　two　hundred　dollars　he　understood　all
that　it　meant　by　social　unrest。　In　fact；　he　interpreted　all　forms　of
social　discontent　in　terms　of　it。　Russian　Anarchism；　German
Socialism；　the　Labour　Movement；　Henry　George；　Lloyd　George；he
understood　the　whole　lot　of　them　by　thinking　of　his　two　hundred
dollars。

When　I　tell　you　that　at　this　period　Mr。　Pupkin　read　Memoirs　of　the
Great　Revolutionists　and　even　thought　of　blowing　up　Henry　Mullins
with　dynamite；　you　can　appreciate　his　state　of　mind。

But　not　even　by　all　these　hindrances　and　obstacles　to　his　love　for
Zena　Pepperleigh　would　Peter　Pupkin　have　been　driven　to　commit
suicide　（oh；　yes；　he　committed　it　three　times；　as　I'm　going　to　tell
you）；　had　it　not　been　for　another　thing　that　he　knew　stood　once　and
for　all　and　in　cold　reality　between　him　and　Zena。

He　felt　it　in　a　sort　of　way；　as　soon　as　he　knew　her。　Each　time　that
he　tried　to　talk　to　her　about　his　home　and　his　father　and　mother　and
found　that　something　held　him　back；　he　realized　more　and　more　the
kind　of　thing　that　stood　between　them。　Most　of　all　did　he　realize　it；
with　a　sudden　sickness　of　heart；　when　he　got　word　that　his　father　and
mother　wanted　to　come　to　Mariposa　to　see　him　and　he　had　all　he　could
do　to　head　them　off　from　it。

Why？　Why　stop　them？　The　reason　was；　simple　enough；　that　Pupkin　was
ashamed　of　them；　bitterly　ashamed。　The　picture　of　his　mother　and
father　turning　up　in　Mariposa　and　being　seen　by　his　friends　there　and
going　up　to　the　Pepperleigh's　house　made　him　feel　faint　with　shame。

No；　I　don't　say　it　wasn't　wrong。　It　only　shows　what　difference　of
fortune；　the　difference　of　being　rich　and　being　poor；　means　in　this
world。　You　perhaps　have　been　so　lucky　that　you　cannot　appreciate　what
it　means　to　feel　shame　at　the　station　of　your　own　father　and　mother。
You　think　it　doesn't　matter；　that　honesty　and　kindliness　of　heart　are
all　that　counts。　That　only　shows　that　you　have　never　known　some　of
the　bitterest　feelings　of　people　less　fortunate　than　yourself。

So　it　was　with　Mr。　Pupkin。　When　he　thought　of　his　father　and　mother
turning　up　in　Mariposa；　his　face　reddened　with　unworthy　shame。

He　could　just　picture　the　scene！　He　could　see　them　getting　out　of
their　Limousine　touring　car；　with　the　chauffeur　holding　open　the　door
for　them；　and　his　father　asking　for　a　suite　of　rooms；just　think　of
it；　a　suite　of　rooms！at　the　Mariposa　House。

The　very　thought　of　it　turned　him　ill。

What！　You　have　mistaken　my　meaning？　Ashamed　of　them　because　they　were
poor？　Good　heavens；　no；　but　because　they　were　rich！　And　not　rich　in
the　sense　in　which　they　use　the　term　in　Mariposa；　where　a　rich　person
merely　means　a　man　who　has　money　enough　to　build　a　house　with　a
piazza　and　to　have　everything　he　wants；　but　rich　in　the　other
sense；motor　cars；　Ritz　hotels；　steam　yachts；　summer　islands　and　all
that　sort　of　thing。

Why；　Pupkin's　father；what's　the　use　of　trying　to　conceal　it　any
longer？was　the　senior　partner　in　the　law　firm　of　Pupkin；　Pupkin　and
Pupkin。　If　you　know　the　Maritime　Provinces　at　all；　you've　heard　of
the　Pupkins。　The　name　is　a　household　word　from　Chedabucto　to
Chidabecto。　And；　for　the　matter　of　that；　the　law　firm　and　the　fact
that　Pupkin　senior　had　been　an　Attorney　General　was　the　least　part　of
it。　Attorney　General！　Why；　there's　no　money　in　that！　It's　no　better
than　the　Senate。　No；　no；　Pupkin　senior；　like　so　many　lawyers；　was
practically　a　promoter；　and　he　blew　companies　like　bubbles；　and　when
he　wasn't　in　the　Maritime　Provinces　he　was　in　Boston　and　New　York
raising　money　and　floating　loans；　and　when　they　had　no　money　left　in
New　York　he　floated　it　in　London：　and　when　he　had　it；　he　floated　on
top　of　it　big　rafts　of　lumber　on　the　Miramichi　and　codfish　on　the
Grand　Banks　and　lesser　fish　in　the　Fundy　Bay。　You've　heard　perhaps　of
the　Tidal　Transportation　Company；　and　Fundy　Fisheries　Corporation；
and　the　Paspebiac　Pulp　and　Paper　Unlimited？　Well；　all　of　those　were
Pupkin　senior　under　other　names。　So　just　imagine　him　in　Mariposa！
Wouldn't　he　be　utterly　foolish　there？　Just　imagine　him　meeting　Jim
Eliot　and　treating　him　like　a　druggist　merely　because　he　ran　a　drug
store！　or　speaking　to　Jefferson　Thorpe　as　if　he　were　a　barber　simply
because　he　shaved　for　money！　Why；　a　man　like　that　could　ruin　young
Pupkin　in　Mariposa　in　half　a　day；　and　Pupkin　knew　it。

That　wouldn't　matter　so　much；　but　think　of　the　Pepperleighs　and
Zena！　Everything。　would　be　over　with　them　at　once。　Pupkin　knew　just
what　the　judge　thought　of　riches　and　luxuries。　How　often　had　he　heard
the　judge　pass　sentences　of　life　imprisonment　on　Pierpont　Morgan　and
Mr。　Rockefeller。　How　often　had　Pupkin　heard　him　say　that　any　man　who
received　more　than　three　thousand　dollars　a　year　（that　was　the
judicial　salary　in　the　Missinaba　district）　was　a　mere　robber；　unfit
to　shake　the　hand　of　an　honest　man。　Bitter！　I　should　think　he　was！
He　was　not　so　bitter；　perhaps；　as　Mr。　Muddleson；　the　principal　of　the
Mariposa　high　school；　who　said　that　any　man　who　received　more　than
fifteen　hundred　dollars　was　a　public　enemy。　He　was　certainly　not　so
bitter　as　Trelawney；　the　post…master；　who　said　that　any　man　who　got
from　society　more　than　thirteen　hundred　dollars　（apart　from　a
legitimate　increase　in　recognition　of　a　successful　election）　was　a
danger　to　society。　Still；　he　was　bitter。　They　all　were　in　Mariposa。
Pupkin　could　just　imagine　how　they　would　despise　his　father！

And　Zena！　That　was　the　worst　of　all。　How　often　had；　Pupkin　heard　her
say　that　she　simply　hated　diamonds　wouldn't　wear　them；　despised　them；
wouldn't　give　a　thank　you　for　a　whole　tiara　of