the sheets to impress an idea into the boy’s mind. In a final surge of desire to project his spirit into some kind of life after the body’s death, the old man spent his accumulated philosophy upon the boy.
That first afternoon he said: “David, the world is not an evil place. Never believe that. You will see wars and famines and betrayals. But the world itself cannot be evil. It’s just that evil people, having nothing kind within themselves to feed upon, are driven like mad animals to accomplishment.So you’ll always find that one evil person makes more noise than four good men.
“I never found a way to tell a good man from an evil one except by what he did. It’s popular now to say all men are good and evil both. But I don’t believe that. Men are on one side or the other. Of course, sometimes a good man will do an evil thing. But he regrets it. And so will you, whenever you do wrong. And if you do wrong too often, regrets come so easily that you forget what wrong is. Then you’ve become an evil man, and you’re all tied up inside, and you work and fight against others. And do you know why? Because you have no peace in your heart to satisfy you when you are alone.
“I tried to be a good man, David, and I think I was. When you grow up you’ll ask yourself, ‘But why did he wind up in the poorhouse?’ Let me tell you that America is a wonderful country. I’ve seen all the countries in the world, I guess, and there is none to compare with ours. But it’s quite possible for a man in America to lead a good life and die in the poorhouse. It’s pretty hard for an evil man to do that.” Then the frail hands beat unmercifully upon the bed, and the old man cried, “But you must never forget that evil men don’t get into this poorhouse of ours because they live forever in a miserable poorhouse of their own spirit. All their lives!
“So when you’re thirty years old or forty and you remember your friends on the long hall, don’t jump at wrong answers as to why we were here. The world wasn’t all wrong. America was not an evil place. We were not bad men. It’s …” He looked up at the fragmentary tree. “It’s like the burning of Troy. There is no explanation.”
A terrible paroxysm gripped him. His face became bluish. He clutched at the covers and writhed upon his bed. The sunlight beamed across his forehead and showed sweat standing in tiny balls, like a crown of jewels. But beneath the sheets his knees hammered together until David could hear them.
“Ugh … ugh …” he gasped.
“Daniel!” David pleaded softly. He thought: “If he were dead like the old men in the barn, his pain would stop. But look at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be dead.”
“Oh, David!” the nurse cried, rushing up. “Get out of here!” She grabbed the boy tenderly and led him to the door. But David kept looking back at Daniel, who did not want to die. The boy saw this thing and remembered it.
Daniel did not die that day. David had many more visits with him. As the old man grew weaker, so that even his face contracted, he talked with greater speed. He jumped more in his speech, too, cutting at the topic sentences of his mortal essay: “Lots of people start things in January, with the beginning of the year. But that’s ruling your life by a calendar. Always start things in the spring. Work at them through the summer. Finish them in the winter. Most great men are started in spring. Women carry them through the summer and autumn. That’s why we celebrate so many birthdays in February. People are like the earth.
“You can look at any great man and say, ‘He’s no better than a hog. He eats and sweats and goes to the toilet and some day he dies.’ But you can also say, of the meanest man you ever saw, ‘He is more than an eagle.’
“You can’t save enough money to make sure that everything will turn out all right. Lots of times when you do have money you can’t use it, so what good does it do? But
That first afternoon he said: “David, the world is not an evil place. Never believe that. You will see wars and famines and betrayals. But the world itself cannot be evil. It’s just that evil people, having nothing kind within themselves to feed upon, are driven like mad animals to accomplishment.So you’ll always find that one evil person makes more noise than four good men.
“I never found a way to tell a good man from an evil one except by what he did. It’s popular now to say all men are good and evil both. But I don’t believe that. Men are on one side or the other. Of course, sometimes a good man will do an evil thing. But he regrets it. And so will you, whenever you do wrong. And if you do wrong too often, regrets come so easily that you forget what wrong is. Then you’ve become an evil man, and you’re all tied up inside, and you work and fight against others. And do you know why? Because you have no peace in your heart to satisfy you when you are alone.
“I tried to be a good man, David, and I think I was. When you grow up you’ll ask yourself, ‘But why did he wind up in the poorhouse?’ Let me tell you that America is a wonderful country. I’ve seen all the countries in the world, I guess, and there is none to compare with ours. But it’s quite possible for a man in America to lead a good life and die in the poorhouse. It’s pretty hard for an evil man to do that.” Then the frail hands beat unmercifully upon the bed, and the old man cried, “But you must never forget that evil men don’t get into this poorhouse of ours because they live forever in a miserable poorhouse of their own spirit. All their lives!
“So when you’re thirty years old or forty and you remember your friends on the long hall, don’t jump at wrong answers as to why we were here. The world wasn’t all wrong. America was not an evil place. We were not bad men. It’s …” He looked up at the fragmentary tree. “It’s like the burning of Troy. There is no explanation.”
A terrible paroxysm gripped him. His face became bluish. He clutched at the covers and writhed upon his bed. The sunlight beamed across his forehead and showed sweat standing in tiny balls, like a crown of jewels. But beneath the sheets his knees hammered together until David could hear them.
“Ugh … ugh …” he gasped.
“Daniel!” David pleaded softly. He thought: “If he were dead like the old men in the barn, his pain would stop. But look at his eyes. He doesn’t want to be dead.”
“Oh, David!” the nurse cried, rushing up. “Get out of here!” She grabbed the boy tenderly and led him to the door. But David kept looking back at Daniel, who did not want to die. The boy saw this thing and remembered it.
Daniel did not die that day. David had many more visits with him. As the old man grew weaker, so that even his face contracted, he talked with greater speed. He jumped more in his speech, too, cutting at the topic sentences of his mortal essay: “Lots of people start things in January, with the beginning of the year. But that’s ruling your life by a calendar. Always start things in the spring. Work at them through the summer. Finish them in the winter. Most great men are started in spring. Women carry them through the summer and autumn. That’s why we celebrate so many birthdays in February. People are like the earth.
“You can look at any great man and say, ‘He’s no better than a hog. He eats and sweats and goes to the toilet and some day he dies.’ But you can also say, of the meanest man you ever saw, ‘He is more than an eagle.’
“You can’t save enough money to make sure that everything will turn out all right. Lots of times when you do have money you can’t use it, so what good does it do? But
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