and waits of hours, and he had fretted at the prospect.
When a young man is about to begin his career, he
does not wish to sit hours in dingy little railroad
stations on his way toward it. It was much easier,
and pleasanter, to walk, almost run to it, as he was
doing now. His only baggage was his little medicine-case;
his trunk had gone by train the day before. He
was very well dressed, his clothes had the cut of
a city tailor. He was almost dandified.
His father was well-to-do: a successful peach-grower
on a wholesale scale. His great farm was sprayed
over every spring with delicate rosy garlands of peach
blossoms, and in the autumn the trees were heavy with
the almond-scented fruit. He had made a fortune,
and aside from that had achieved a certain local distinction.
He was then mayor of Gresham, which had a city government.
James was very proud of his father and fond of him.
Indeed, he had reason to be. His father had done
everything in his power for him, given him a good education,
and supplied him liberally with money. James
had always had a sense of plenty of money, which had
kept him from undue love of it. He was now beginning
the practice of his profession, in a small way, it
is true, but that he recognized as expedient.
“You had better get acclimated, become accustomed
to your profession in a small place, before you launch
out in a city,” his father had said, and the
son had acquiesced. It was the natural wing-trying
process before large flights were attempted, and the
course commended itself to his reason. James,
as well as his father, had good reasoning power.
He whistled to himself as he walked along. He
was very happy. He had a sensation as of one who
has his goal in sight. He thought of his father,
his mother, and his two younger sisters, but with
no distress at absenting himself from them, although
he lived in accord with his family. Twenty-five
miles to his joyous youth seemed but as a step across
the road. He had no sense of separation.
“What is twenty-five miles?” he had said
laughingly to his mother, when she had kissed him
good-by. He had no conception of her state of
mind with regard to the break in the home circle.
He who was the breaker did not even see the break.
Therefore he walked along, conscious of an immense
joy in his own soul, and wholly unconscious of anything
except joy in the souls of those whom he had left
behind. It was a glorious morning, a white morning.
The ground was covered with white frost, the trees,
the house-roofs, the very air, were all white.
In the west a transparent moon was slowly sinking;
the east deepened with red and violet tints.
Then came the sun, upheaving above the horizon like
a ship of glory, and all the whiteness burned, and
glowed, and radiated jewel-lights. James looked
about with the delight of a discoverer. It might
have been his first morning. He begun to meet
men going to their work, swinging tin dinner-pails.
Even these humble pails became glorified, they gave