the vision spendid(美景)-第8部分
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between them。 An ice statue would have been warm compared to the
Chancellor。
Next day Jeff was publicly expelled。 At the time it did not trouble him
in the least。 He had brought a bottle home with him from town； and when
the notice was posted he lay among the bushes in a sodden sleep half a
mile from the campus。
PART 2
From a great distance there seemed to come to Jeff vaguely the sound
of young rippling laughter and eager girlish voices。 Drawn from heavy
sleep； he was not yet fully awake。 This merriment might be the music of
fairy bells； such stuff as dreams are made of。 He lay incurious； drowsiness
still heavy on his eyelids。
〃Oh； Virgie； here's another bunch！ Oh； girls； fields of them！〃
There was a little rush to the place； and with it a rustle of skirts that
sounded authentic。 Jeff began to believe that his nymphs were not born of
fancy。 He opened his eyes languidly to examine a strange world upon
which he had not yet focused his mind。
Out of the ferns a dryad was coming toward him； lance straight；
slender； buoyantly youthful in the light tread and in the poise of the golden
head。
At sight of him she paused； held in her tracks； eyes grown big with
solicitude。
〃You are ill。〃
Before he could answer she had dropped the anemones she carried；
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was on her knees beside him； and had his head cushioned against her arm。
〃Tell me！ What can I do for you？ What is the matter？〃
Jeff groaned。 His head was aching as if it would blow up； but that was
not the cause of the wave of pain which had swept over him。 A realization
had come to him of what was the matter with him。 His eyes fell from hers。
He made as if to get up； but her hand restrained him with a gentle
firmness。
〃Don't！ You mustn't。〃 Then aloud； she cried： 〃Girlsgirls there's a
sick man here。 Run and get help。 Quick。〃
〃Nono！ II'm not sick。〃
A flood of shame and embarrassment drenched him。 He could not
escape her tender hands without actual force and his poignant shyness
made that impossible。 She was like a fairy tale； a creature of dreams。 He
dared not meet her frank pitiful eyes； though he was intensely aware of
them。 The odor of violets brings to him even to this day a vision of girlish
charm and daintiness； together with a memory of the abased reverence that
filled him。
They came running； her companions； eager with question and
suggestion。 And hard upon their heels a teamster from the road broke
through the thicket； summoned by their calls for help。 He stooped to pick
up something that his foot had struck。 It was a bottle。 He looked at it and
then at Jeff。
〃Nothing the matter with him； Miss； but just plain drunk；〃 the man
said with a grin。 〃He's been sleeping it off。〃
Jeff felt the quiver run through her。 She rose； trembling； and with one
frightened sidelong look at him walked quickly away。 He had seen a
wound in her eyes he would not soon forget。 It was as if he had struck her
down while she was holding out hands to help him。
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THE VISION SPLENDID
CHAPTER 5
Lies need only age to make them respectable。 Given that； they become
traditions and are put upon a pedestal。 Then the gentlest word for him who
attacks them is traitor。 From the Note Book of a Dreamer。
THE REBEL FOLLOWS THE RAMIFICATIONS OF BIG
BUSINESS AND FINDS THAT THE PILLARS OF SOCIETY ARE NOT
IN POLITICS FOR THEIR HEALTH
PART 1
〃Hmp！ Want to be a reporter； do you？〃
Warren； city editor on the Advocate； leaned back in his chair and
looked Jeff over sharply。
〃Yes。〃
〃It's a hell of a life。 Better keep out。〃
〃I'd like to try it。〃
〃Any experience？〃
〃Only correspondence。 I've had two years at college。〃
The city editor snorted。 He had the unreasoning contempt for college
men so often found in the old…time newspaper hack。
〃Then you don't want to be a reporter。 You want to be a journalist；〃 he
jeered。
〃They kicked me out；〃 Jeff went on quietly。
〃Sounds better。 Why？〃
Jeff hesitated。 〃I got drunk。〃
〃Can't use you；〃 Warren cut in hastily。
〃I've quitsworn off。〃
The city editor was back on the job； his eyes devouring copy。 〃Heard
that before。 Nothing to it；〃 he grunted。
〃Give me a trial。 I'll show you。〃
〃Don't want a man that drinks。 Office crowded with 'em already。〃
Jeff held his ground。 For five minutes the attention of Warren was
focused on his work。
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Suddenly he snapped out； 〃Well？〃
He met Farnum's ingratiating smile。 〃You haven't told me yet what to
start doing。〃
〃I told you I didn't want you。〃
〃But you do。 I'm on the wagon。〃
〃For how long？〃 jeered the city editor。
〃For good。〃
Warren sized him up again。 He saw a cleareyed young fellow without
a superfluous ounce of flesh on him； not rugged but with a look of strength
in the slender figure and the thin face。 This young man somehow inspired
confidence。
〃Sent in that Colby story to us； didn't you？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Rotten story。 Not half played up。 Report to Jenkins at the City Hall。〃
〃Now？〃
〃Now。 Think I meant next year？〃
The city editor was already lost in the reading of more copy。
Inside of half an hour Jeff was at work on his first assignment。 Some
derelict had committed suicide under the very shadow of the City Hall。
Upon the body was a note scrawled on the bask of a dirty envelope。
Sick and out of work。 Notify Henry Simmons； 237 River Street； San
Francisco。
Jenkins； his hands in his pockets； looked at the body indifferently and
turned the story over to the cub with a nod of his head。
〃Go to it。 Half a stick；〃 he said。
From another reporter Jeff learned how much half a stick is。 He wrote
the account。 When he had read it Jenkins glanced sharply at him。 Though
only the barest facts were told there was a sob in the story。
〃That ain't just how we handle vag suicides； but we'll let 'er go this
time；〃 he commented。
It did not take Jeff long to learn how to cover a story to the satisfaction
of the city editor。 He had only to be conventional； sensational； and in
general accurate as to his facts。 He fraternized with his fellow reporters at
the City Hall； shared stories with them； listened to the cheerful lies they
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THE VISION SPLENDID
told of their exploits； and lent them money they generally forgot to return。
They were a happy…go…lucky lot； full of careless generosities and
Bohemian tendencies。 Often a week's salary went at a single poker sitting。
Most of them drank a good deal。
After a few months' experience Jeff discovered that while the
gathering of news tends to sharpen the wits it makes also for the
superficial。 Alertness； cleverness； persistence； a nose for news； and a
surface accuracy were the chief qualities demanded of him by the office。
He had only to look around him to see that the profession was full of keen…
eyed； nimble…witted old…young men who had never attempted to
synthesize the life they were supposed to be recording and interpreting。
While at work they were always in a hurry； for to…day's news is dead to…
morrow。 They wrote on the run； without time for thought or reflection。
Knowing beyond their years； the fruit of their wisdom was cynicism。 Their
knowledge withered for lack of roots。
The tendency of the city desk and of copy readers is to reduce all
reporters to a dead level； but in spite of this Jeff managed to get himself
into his work。 He brought to many stories a freshness； a point of view； an
optimism that began to be noticed。 From the police run Jeff drifted to other
departments。 He covered hotels； the court house； the state house and
general assignments。
At the end of a couple of years he was promoted to a desk position。
This did not suit him； and he went back to the more active work of the
street。 In time he became known as a star man。 From dramatics he went to
politics； special stories and feature work。 The big assignments were given
him。
It was his duty to meet famous people and interview them。 The chance
to get behind the scenes at the real inside story was given him。 Because of
this many reputations were pricked like bubbles so far as he was
concerned。 The mask of greatness was like the false faces children wear to
conceal their own。 In the one or two really big men he met Jeff discovered
a humility and simplicity that came from self…forgetfulness。 They w
