Carl

“ Carl was no romantic hero incog. He was a workman, and he knew it. Was not his father a carpenter? his father's best friend a tailor? Had he not been a waiter at Plato?
But not always a workman. Carl had no conception of world-wide class-consciousness; he had no pride in being a proletarian. Though from Bone's musings and Frazer's lectures he had drawn a vague optimism about a world-syndicate of nations, he took it for granted that he was going to be rich as soon as he could.
Job. He had to have a job. ”

“ Then she became more composed, and taking Charlie's face between her soft and ungloved hands, gazed into his eyes with a tender smile.
'You will yet love me, Carl, in spite of all that mamma has said?' she whispered.
'Love you!' he exclaimed, 'what on earth could make me cease to love you?'
'How enchanting it is to be with you again, my own Carl! You will write to me from—from France, when Heinrich writes to me or Herminia, and I can reply in the same manner.'
'Thank you, darling, for the delightful promise.'
'No power on earth must separate us, Carl. ”

“ What a joy it was to me during that rosy-sweet early period of our union to watch Carl, like a proud mother, as he grew and exfoliated—like a plant that has been kept in a cellar and now in congenial soil and sunshine is showing at last its full potentialities. Through me my boy was attaining the full stature of a man ”

“ If Carl had never stood in the bread-line, if he had never been compelled to clean a saloon gutter artistically, in order to keep from standing in that bread-line, he would surely have gone back to the commonplaceness for which every one except Bone Stillman and Henry Frazer had been assiduously training him all his life. They who know how naturally life runs on in any sphere will understand that Carl did not at the time feel that he was debased. ”

“ Carl was tired sitting still by this time, so he went out and ran about on the beach till dinner; and after dinner he went up to his corner again. The sun came in through the little window, look-askance at Carl’s treasures, and giving a strange, old-fashioned air to purse and book and stocking. [34] The shoes looked new yet, and shone in their blacking, and the apples had evidently but just quitted the tree; while the red cent gleamed away in the fair light, and the old pine cone was brown as ever, and reflected not one ray. ”

“ Carl came racing up the crazy stairs, taking two steps at a time, and, tossing a bundle of evening papers to Tony, he whistled to Cinders, and away they went.
Poor Carl looked shabby enough, with his toes sticking out of a pair of old shoes—a part of the treasures “scooped” from the ash-heap—and not mates at that, one being as much too large as the other was too small, his tattered jacket and his brimless hat. ”

“ Kline knit his brows, and gazed with anger and disappointment at the little Carl; and the rest, seeing him do this, felt themselves aggrieved; but suddenly the cloud cleared from Kline's face, and rushing forward, he caught Carl in his arms, crying—'Forgive me, dear Carl! ”

“ As she danced with Carl it was her hero's arm she felt. At night, when Carl left her on the door-step, she looked up at the stars and the sinking moon, and lifted her face in a wild vow, inarticulate—"I will be worthy of him!" That was the passionate resolution, but it did not reach to the definiteness of words.
As she worked about the house she took graceful attitudes, and wished he might see her; he would be pleased with her. The grace and power of her arm acquired new meaning to her. Her body, she recognized, had something the same statuesque pose of his. ”

“ Carl’s dark blue eyes looked trustfully into his commander’s face, and he said, “Signor, the Madonna looks at you from the bright skies; think you she would not mourn to hear you call the men, that have served you so long and well, cowards?”
“True, Carl; I was angry and unreasonable. Your girlish manliness makes me ashamed of myself,” answered Harris; “but I do not like to give up the idea of frightening the colonists. ”

“ Carl whispered to Franz, who stood beside him:
"There is no country like ours, is there, Franz? We could not be happy anywhere else, I'm sure."
His friend replied, "No, indeed, Carl. It is the home of free men, and we must grow up to keep it so. I don't care if we do have to study for six hours every school-day. We learn all the faster and, besides, we have ever so many holidays." ”

“ He threw his vivid grin to Carl.
“Hah, poet who seems to sleep but is always awake—greetings,” he called out, in the crisply dramatic way in which he usually spoke. “‘Demons lurk in your dimples’—you should have written that line about yourself.”
“Portraits are merely pretexts—secret portraits of oneself tortuously extracted from the blankness of other people,” said Carl.
“You would like to believe that. The involved egoism of youth!” ”

“ He possessed no human significance to Carl—he was a drably accidental automaton who shouted down the blessed orders that gave Carl little time for definite thoughts and emotions: an unconscious helper in the flogging of mind and soul. ”

“ Flower scents filtered through Carl’s open window, like softly dismayed sins and the cool repentance of a summer night glided into his room upon a pathway of moonlight. For a while he sat absent-mindedly burnishing the knives that had divided his evening. After he had undressed he fell upon his bed like one hurriedly obliterating an ordeal. His consciousness played with a black hood; then a crash mastered the room and the door swung open. His blanched face paid a spasmodic tribute to the sound and his grey eyes greeted the darkness as though it were an advancing mob. ”

“ With the perversity of reckless madmen, however, Carl went his foolhardy way unharmed. But his nights were fevered and sleepless and haunted by a face which never left him, and the locked hieroglyphics on Themar's cuff danced dizzily before his eyes.
Carl presently lighted a lantern, seated himself at the camp table and fell moodily to poring over the tormenting hieroglyphics which had haunted him for days.
The night was cloudy. Only at infrequent intervals the moon soared turbulently out from the somber cloud-hills and glinted brightly through the live oaks overhead. ”

“ People surreptitiously filtered from the houses and walked down the street with Carl—chorus girls with plump, sneaky faces, underworld hoodlums with an air of wanly etched bravado, ponderously rollicking servant girls, clerks with the faces of genial mice, and meekly dazed old men stumping to their dish-washing jobs. To Carl they were also hurrying after something that had vanished and cajoling their mingled emptiness and pain with swift motion. ”

“ Carl who called for her almost every Sunday in a buggy, and took her driving like a white lady, to Vailele or Vaitele or Utumapu; Carl of the ringing laugh, and jolly, smiling face, and tattooed girl-fish on his arm, who could sing, and do tricks with cards, and invent the funniest forfeits when they all played games, and yet, who at leave-time never failed to say with seriousness: "Oh, my pigeon, am I to love uselessly forever?" ”

“ Anything so beautiful is not to be seen now. I clapped my hands for joy. Never shall I forget him as he darted out from one arch of the bridge, and in again under the other, the wind carrying the train behind him as he flew." In that amiable figure I seem to see the fulfilment of the Resurgam on Carl's empty coffin—the aspiring soul of Carl himself, in freedom and effective, at last. ”

“ Carl’s parents clucked their tongues in puzzled admiration when he read them one of his poems, and then, with a note of loquacious fear in their voices, told him that he must look upon writing as a “side-line”—a pretty, lightly smirking distraction that could snuggle into the hollows of a business-man’s life. ”

“ It threw its light into the frosty night; the clear stars cut sharp holes in the sky, and the air was so cold it made everything glisten.
A-ring-a-ring, ring! clanged the great bell, and little Hans and Carl knew their father’s arms were making it ring. The strokes were so strong that each one made little half-asleep Carl wink; and the stars seemed to wink back to him each time. He crept closer to Hans, and the two stood still with their arms about each other; the room was quite cold, but they did not mind it, for with each stroke the great bell seemed to ring more beautifully. ”

“ Carl wrote: "He is all he is supposed to be and more." He in turn wrote me after Carl's death: "Our country shares with you the great loss. Your husband was among the very few Americans who possessed the character, knowledge, and insight which are indispensable in dealing effectively with our labor-problem. Appreciation of his value was coming rapidly, and events were enforcing his teachings. His journey to the East brought inspiration to many; and I seek comfort in the thought that, among the students at the University, there will be some at least who are eager to carry forward his work." ”

“ Oh, Carl, I wish you could have seen him! Maybe he wasn't the handsomest thing! He had the blackest, curliest hair, and he wore a thumb ring."
"I don't think much of all these hamfatters," growled Carl. "Actors always go broke and have to walk back to Chicago. Don't you think it 'd be better to be a civil engineer or something like that, instead of having to slick up your hair and carry a cane? They're just dudes." ”

“ Carl's letters are always full of jokes and bits of fun. They had a great rat-hunt the night before he wrote—spearing rats with their bayonets—and he got the best bag and won the prize. He has a tame rat that knows him and sleeps in his pocket at night. Rats don’t worry Carl as they do some people—he was always chummy with all little beasts. He says he is making a study of the habits of the trench rat and means to write a treatise on it some day that will make him famous. ”

“ In the end, I just hid behind a clump of saroo trees and took the pictures."
Carl let his gaze wander about the room. He had to think. Then, almost as if it had been prearranged, he found himself looking into a full-length mirror on the far wall. The reflection he saw wasn't old—the hair, while slightly lighter at the temples, was still for the most part dark-brown. He had a good build too, and except for a few creases radiating from the corners of his eyes, his skin had the smooth sort of thickness that many men in their middle-thirties would have envied. He'd kept himself well. ”

“ Carl's father assured him in every letter that he was extravagant. He ran through the two dollars in practically no time at all. He was a member in good and regular [61] standing of the informal club that hung about the Corner Drug Store, to drink coffee soda and discuss athletics and stare at the passing girls. He loved to set off his clear skin and shining pale hair with linen collars, though soft roll-collar shirts were in vogue. ”

“ These thoughts and emotions formed themselves in Carl’s mood as he strolled through the clattering, mercenary sounds of a midwestern city. The joy of not being compelled to cope with undesired physical movements brought its lightness to his legs, and he hurriedly fished for secrets from the thousands of faces gliding past him. ”

“ Our Little Swiss Cousin CHAPTER I.
CARL'S HOLIDAY
"To-morrow, to-morrow!" Carl kept repeating to himself.
He was standing at the window of the little cottage and looking out toward the great mountain. He had lived under its shadow all his life. Its snowy summit was coloured a fiery red as it stood against the sky in the sunset light. People in far-away lands would give a great deal to see such a glorious sight. ”

“ Carl made no reply. Just ahead of them was the Norwegian graveyard, where the grass had, indeed, grown back over everything, shaggy and red, hiding even the wire fence. Carl realized that he was not a very helpful companion, but there was nothing he could say.
“Of course,” Alexandra went on, steadying her voice a little, “the boys are strong and work hard, but we’ve always depended so on father that I don’t see how we can go ahead. I almost feel as if there were nothing to go ahead for.”
“Does your father know?”
“Yes, I think he does. He lies and counts on his fingers all day. ”

“ The physician was putty in Carl’s adroit hands—this composed young man with an intelligent, contrite speech must, of course, be quite sane. Carl, as he spoke to this man, slowly formed an evil grin beneath the cool mask of his face, and he relished the task of showering upon this man earnest platitudes, smooth imitations of that limited sleep known as “common sense,” and words of self-reproach, because this trickery brought back to him his old sense of power over his surroundings and offered a subtle outlet for his hatred of life. ”

“ Trotting by the side of Cael, the Carl thrust a hand into the tail of his coat and pulled out a fistful of red bones.
"Here, my heart, is a meaty bone," said he, "for you fasted all night, poor friend, and if you pick a bit off the bone your stomach will get a rest."
"Keep your filth, beggarman," the other replied, "for I would rather be hanged than gnaw on a bone that you have browsed."
"Why don't you run, my pulse?" said the Carl earnestly; "why don't you try to win the race?" ”

“ In the spring of his freshman year Carl gave up waiting on table and drove a motor-car for a town banker. He learned every screw and spring in the car. He also made Genie go out with him for track athletics. Carl won his place on the college team as a half-miler, and viciously assaulted two freshmen and a junior for laughing at Genie's legs, which stuck out of his large running-pants like straws out of a lemonade-glass. ”