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- Теодор Драйзер
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- Стр. 2/332
Never
in
all
his
life
until
this
trip
had
Cowperwood
been
farther
west
than
Pittsburg
.
His
amazing
commercial
adventures
,
brilliant
as
they
were
,
had
been
almost
exclusively
confined
to
the
dull
,
staid
world
of
Philadelphia
,
with
its
sweet
refinement
in
sections
,
its
pretensions
to
American
social
supremacy
,
its
cool
arrogation
of
traditional
leadership
in
commercial
life
,
its
history
,
conservative
wealth
,
unctuous
respectability
,
and
all
the
tastes
and
avocations
which
these
imply
.
He
had
,
as
he
recalled
,
almost
mastered
that
pretty
world
and
made
its
sacred
precincts
his
own
when
the
crash
came
.
Practically
he
had
been
admitted
.
Now
he
was
an
Ishmael
,
an
ex-convict
,
albeit
a
millionaire
.
But
wait
!
The
race
is
to
the
swift
,
he
said
to
himself
over
and
over
.
Yes
,
and
the
battle
is
to
the
strong
.
He
would
test
whether
the
world
would
trample
him
under
foot
or
no
.
Chicago
,
when
it
finally
dawned
on
him
,
came
with
a
rush
on
the
second
morning
.
He
had
spent
two
nights
in
the
gaudy
Pullman
then
provided
--
a
car
intended
to
make
up
for
some
of
the
inconveniences
of
its
arrangements
by
an
over-elaboration
of
plush
and
tortured
glass
--
when
the
first
lone
outposts
of
the
prairie
metropolis
began
to
appear
.
The
side-tracks
along
the
road-bed
over
which
he
was
speeding
became
more
and
more
numerous
,
the
telegraph-poles
more
and
more
hung
with
arms
and
strung
smoky-thick
with
wires
.
In
the
far
distance
,
cityward
,
was
,
here
and
there
,
a
lone
working-man
's
cottage
,
the
home
of
some
adventurous
soul
who
had
planted
his
bare
hut
thus
far
out
in
order
to
reap
the
small
but
certain
advantage
which
the
growth
of
the
city
would
bring
.
The
land
was
flat
--
as
flat
as
a
table
--
with
a
waning
growth
of
brown
grass
left
over
from
the
previous
year
,
and
stirring
faintly
in
the
morning
breeze
.
Underneath
were
signs
of
the
new
green
--
the
New
Year
's
flag
of
its
disposition
.
For
some
reason
a
crystalline
atmosphere
enfolded
the
distant
hazy
outlines
of
the
city
,
holding
the
latter
like
a
fly
in
amber
and
giving
it
an
artistic
subtlety
which
touched
him
.
Already
a
devotee
of
art
,
ambitious
for
connoisseurship
,
who
had
had
his
joy
,
training
,
and
sorrow
out
of
the
collection
he
had
made
and
lost
in
Philadelphia
,
he
appreciated
almost
every
suggestion
of
a
delightful
picture
in
nature
.
The
tracks
,
side
by
side
,
were
becoming
more
and
more
numerous
.
Freight-cars
were
assembled
here
by
thousands
from
all
parts
of
the
country
--
yellow
,
red
,
blue
,
green
,
white
.
(
Chicago
,
he
recalled
,
already
had
thirty
railroads
terminating
here
,
as
though
it
were
the
end
of
the
world
.
)
The
little
low
one
and
two
story
houses
,
quite
new
as
to
wood
,
were
frequently
unpainted
and
already
smoky
--
in
places
grimy
.
At
grade-crossings
,
where
ambling
street-cars
and
wagons
and
muddy-wheeled
buggies
waited
,
he
noted
how
flat
the
streets
were
,
how
unpaved
,
how
sidewalks
went
up
and
down
rhythmically
--
here
a
flight
of
steps
,
a
veritable
platform
before
a
house
,
there
a
long
stretch
of
boards
laid
flat
on
the
mud
of
the
prairie
itself
.
What
a
city
!
Presently
a
branch
of
the
filthy
,
arrogant
,
self-sufficient
little
Chicago
River
came
into
view
,
with
its
mass
of
sputtering
tugs
,
its
black
,
oily
water
,
its
tall
,
red
,
brown
,
and
green
grain-elevators
,
its
immense
black
coal-pockets
and
yellowish-brown
lumber-yards
.
Here
was
life
;
he
saw
it
at
a
flash
.
Here
was
a
seething
city
in
the
making
.
There
was
something
dynamic
in
the
very
air
which
appealed
to
his
fancy
.
How
different
,
for
some
reason
,
from
Philadelphia
!
That
was
a
stirring
city
,
too
.
He
had
thought
it
wonderful
at
one
time
,
quite
a
world
;
but
this
thing
,
while
obviously
infinitely
worse
,
was
better
.
It
was
more
youthful
,
more
hopeful
.
In
a
flare
of
morning
sunlight
pouring
between
two
coal-pockets
,
and
because
the
train
had
stopped
to
let
a
bridge
swing
and
half
a
dozen
great
grain
and
lumber
boats
go
by
--
a
half-dozen
in
either
direction
--
he
saw
a
group
of
Irish
stevedores
idling
on
the
bank
of
a
lumber-yard
whose
wall
skirted
the
water
.
Healthy
men
they
were
,
in
blue
or
red
shirt-sleeves
,
stout
straps
about
their
waists
,
short
pipes
in
their
mouths
,
fine
,
hardy
,
nutty-brown
specimens
of
humanity
.
Why
were
they
so
appealing
,
he
asked
himself
.
This
raw
,
dirty
town
seemed
naturally
to
compose
itself
into
stirring
artistic
pictures
.
Why
,
it
fairly
sang
!
The
world
was
young
here
.
Life
was
doing
something
new
.
Perhaps
he
had
better
not
go
on
to
the
Northwest
at
all
;
he
would
decide
that
question
later
.
In
the
mean
time
he
had
letters
of
introduction
to
distinguished
Chicagoans
,
and
these
he
would
present
He
wanted
to
talk
to
some
bankers
and
grain
and
commission
men
.
The
stock-exchange
of
Chicago
interested
him
,
for
the
intricacies
of
that
business
he
knew
backward
and
forward
,
and
some
great
grain
transactions
had
been
made
here
.
The
train
finally
rolled
past
the
shabby
backs
of
houses
into
a
long
,
shabbily
covered
series
of
platforms
--
sheds
having
only
roofs
--
and
amidst
a
clatter
of
trucks
hauling
trunks
,
and
engines
belching
steam
,
and
passengers
hurrying
to
and
fro
he
made
his
way
out
into
Canal
Street
and
hailed
a
waiting
cab
--
one
of
a
long
line
of
vehicles
that
bespoke
a
metropolitan
spirit
.
He
had
fixed
on
the
Grand
Pacific
as
the
most
important
hotel
--
the
one
with
the
most
social
significance
--
and
thither
he
asked
to
be
driven
.
On
the
way
he
studied
these
streets
as
in
the
matter
of
art
he
would
have
studied
a
picture
.
The
little
yellow
,
blue
,
green
,
white
,
and
brown
street-cars
which
he
saw
trundling
here
and
there
,
the
tired
,
bony
horses
,
jingling
bells
at
their
throats
,
touched
him
.
They
were
flimsy
affairs
,
these
cars
,
merely
highly
varnished
kindling-wood
with
bits
of
polished
brass
and
glass
stuck
about
them
,
but
he
realized
what
fortunes
they
portended
if
the
city
grew
.
Street-cars
,
he
knew
,
were
his
natural
vocation
.
Even
more
than
stock-brokerage
,
even
more
than
banking
,
even
more
than
stock-organization
he
loved
the
thought
of
street-cars
and
the
vast
manipulative
life
it
suggested
.
