Show i I I ? f I r 1 s t 51 Sunday Morning UTlje I March 23 1941 Salt £ak?IVUmnc- - ‘ Lends Strength to 1 ‘ drudgery pain Man Tells Life tl s ’ ' t By Professor ! ‘ - j : v I ? was fine especially for rabbit huntl "Yes-ye- s - ugly" X A Quivey He didn’t sound very sincere Maybe he felt "the same as I and maybe he was putting It just as I had "Nice weather for rabbit hunting in a sort of though" I answered amending tone "Guess it would he" he answered glancing out at the landscape sliding past-th- e car Tie was still In that shell Queer old bird Clever conversationalist he rounded out all your statements but’ added nothing to them We were passing an old deserted farm There were many of them up on this bench country Sometime in the past somebody had tried to make a go of it on this soil probably around war time had built house birn chicken coop pig pen and then something had dropped out of their plans And now all that remained of their dreams were these material shells But they always fascinated me these old farms They Jooked so bleak so desolate they looked like a broken statue of somebody with a sad face that looked at you with the realism of life trying through its immutable countenance to tell you Its tragic past They seemed to force your attention and it seemed the kind of attention you would give to something dead something you id not want to look upon 'but which held your gaze in spite of you Maybe these' scenes of desolation symbolized or crystallzed your deep inner fear and thus became a part of you spread out for your Inspection a part which you did not wish to think about or see Well I’d make one more to break' through this film ofattempt silence that this strange companion had put up between us In reference to the old farm which we were Just now opposite in as warm a way as possible I remarked "There’s sure a lot of these old places up here" I pointed to the old farm "I guess if they could talk they’d really tell quite a story” I was giving special attention to the road now as we had just struck a rough stretch but I was waiting rather excitedly for the old man to speak Across the bumg piece of road he was still silent I was ’beginning to feel consternation at this none-too-go- od J 1 - ’ 41 - ' left-han- I holding back something f bitter waited for him to continue “The mortgage came due j I'd had another crop failure There was no rain that year but I wssn’t worry-in- g I was sure Mrs Mason would I knew my give me an extension farm would pull me out —Besides Sarah was going to have a child and I was feverishly planning its arrival I had much to look forward i to much to work for "It was on a Thursday that they came They said Mrs Mason was closing down on the place that I had to get off I was stunned I remember Sarah sinking weakly into a chair right over there by that window" he pointed "I rushed into town I was sure there! was some hideous mistake' Not now —not now when Sarah was going to have a child But it was so" e His voice became lifeless tone-le- ss j j ‘ He moved across the room now and touched the rough wall upon which there was still sticking some small pieces of newspaper and faded wall' paper ‘The cupboard I built stood here" In this corner" He seemed to be talking to himself I remained silent He kicked the remains of an old catalogue as he walked toward a rusty old stove in the corner "Many a good meal I've eaten that’s come off that stove” He stilt had that withdrawn manner "But you— r" m 1 had squatted down on an old orange crate where I had been wait- -' ing with patience which I could not altogether understand for the old man to recognize my presence now I recognized an apologetic tone in his' voice I looked up "I’m sorry" he continued "I’d almost forgotten you You see I used to own this all this" and he waved his hands indicating buildings and land "and when I stepped inside here just now it seemed to be speaking to me in a thousand little voices" I felt strange He was saying what X had just felt ' T can’t tell you In words the story of this place It’s aomething that’s happened and can never live 'again It’s a thousand intermingled experiences of Joy' sorrow monotony i t 1 I could tee some of the softness leave his face Hia eyes glinted barely visible in the dim light The picture he had given me of his Jove for Sarah hovCred in my mind and feelings like a sustained clear beautiful tone of music continuing after all the other sounds had ceased He was looking hard at the floor when he began again "Well it was one of those marriages that was consented to but never approved of Sarah’s father but her mother thought it was good une for it She hated it and hated never showed this very much but you could fed It She never visited us out here on the farm and when Bill Sarah’s father loaned me money to tide me over a bad year she fought the idea I couldn’t understand it then later on it was made harshly clear to me ’ after he loaned! me the money Bill died Everything went into the hands of Mrs Mason4 including the mortgage that I had forced Bill to take on my land Bill’s death' started a string of happenings that destroyed everything that made up my life" s He was again silent His last statement had come in a tone that seemed to echo in the room like the last dying strains of a sad music I noticed his hands were clasping He seemed to be and unclasping Instructor Points Out Method of Constructing StoryJ Characters - There are three ways In which a fictional character grows in the mind of the author and consequently three ways in which It has to be presented on the printed page: The composite the mosaic and a combination of the two In photography a composite print Is made by superposing two or more negatives of the same size on each other clamping them together and printing through all of them In the preparation as for instance in the making of a composite photograph of the typical coHege man it is essential that the views of each of the 20 or 30 different men be taken from the i same facial angle usually front view and with the same light effects but at distances from the lense such that certain determined points in the face will coincide In all negatives when superposed (usually the two pupils of the eyes) v Composites are made from amall groups of these negatives and again of groups of the composites until finally all the faces ’ appear on one negative When printed a composite face will appear in the photograph somewhat well defined when it Is looked at from a distance as one views an lmpres-r i t i ' ’ "I began to see it all § Still with her jealous hatred Mrs Mason told me that my farm was no good’ that she was closing down on it merely to force me off it into something more profitable She said Sarah could come and live wlthher until I got settled again "I went sick all over She knew that if she took my farm she was destroying a part of merhe stood there and knew that what she said to me was lies— lies! I could see at last that her crazed mind sick from the irritation of frustrated plans was driving her to use this means of breaking up my home She would go to this end the destruction of her only chUd's happiness to appease her disappointment in our Xmarriage “As stood there looking at her I wanted to killher — I could feel my fingers twitching But I turned and rushed from the house I knew that she was mad Onlyone insane could do such a thing" He was pacing back I and forth now pausing only to use his hands to emphasize this or that My interest had become so centered that it ‘was as if I were not there but I living again in another world sionistic painting In this way one gets the typical face of the freshman of a given class and college It Is wholly probable that the con-- ! cept of types built in the mind of the author as he lives and goes about accumulating material is formed in When I a quite analogous fashion he transfers them to the printed page he of course has to put in individual touches in ordeH to make hia characters alive just as the photographer has to bring out the true composite for close inspection by the observer by retouching given lines in his negative A mosaic is a picture made from j s i I 1 i ured final tone Then he shrugged his shoulders and continued “Of course Mrs Mason said that I had killed Sarah by the kind of life X had forced her to live out here But no tWJ was not it "After Tnet' death I went away I was 26 at the time I am 70 now All these years I have been running— running — trying to escape my I have seen self to forget this much I have suffered much but Hhis place these memories they have 1 always been with me And row I’ve come back to them and I’m going to live here on my farm until I too am dead' !‘Are ydur questions aniwered?" The room had grown dark Time had slipped by me A deep sense of quiet pervaded the entire atmosphere I couldn’t decide what to do! It was as If I were making adjustments to a new world and I was having a great deal of difficulty doing soi I finally arose to my feetWalk-- ing across the room I put my hand on the old man’s shoulder He knew I wouldn’t ask him to go into town now no? not now but sure that he was feeling as I the same deep? bond of friendship that had grown up between us "I’ll come out tomorrow and help you fix this place up" I said "Thanks thanks” and he reached out and patted my arm I turned and went out As ' I started my car I could hear him over the open win-donailing boards t 5 $ 3 ‘ t listened i’When I m 1 got back to? the ranch that night I found Sarah’ very ill I don’t know to this day exactly what it was — She was lying on a couch pale and sweating right there X I f 5 s t i I’ll not be going into town tonight I’m staying here’ i I If where you’re sitting she could barely breathe my name "I had a buckboard here but the roads were very rough I couldn’t take her into town on that in her condition! My anger I had completely forgotten I could think only of Sarahi When I returned with the doctor Sarah was dead The doctor said that so far as he could tell a nervous strain either caused by shock or worry had evidently caused some complications in connection with her pregnant condition" At this point1 1 noticed that his voice had taken on a quiet calm tone i It made me feel that this part of hil life he had thought of often that this part of his life he had resigned himself to after much suffering I knew his story was almost finished "Mrs Mason killed my wife she killed her own daughter" These words he uttered in a steady meas- i two-roo- m w J1 1 ! flood — I 1 11 of questions began to pout into my mind For a moment my inquisitive brain forgot conversation and then before I could frame another question there It was the farmhouse his farmhouse d aide of the It was on the road down in a sort of low place that looked as though it wanted to be a meadow but didn’t quite have the It was very ’necessary moisture much as all the others of its kind a frame house Its sides thirsty for paint its windows broken giving it that hollow stare no sign of a door probably taken by some salvager the bricks on the ragged edg of a broken chimney crumbling away surrounded by dead weeds and sagebrush A windmill with two lonely blades pointing skyward stood like a lonely sentinel In the background An old barn one-ha- lf of the roof caved In a pile of dry powdery manure at each of Its tiny windows a few decayed remains of posts that had made an adjoining corral all this seemed to fuse into a mound of decay And this old man wanted to get out here? It was late in the afternoon It was going to be cold What — why-I stopped the car still In a muddle of questions He had opened the door and was pushing his pack out in front of him I couldn't stand this any longer Whether it was my business or not I was going to find out about this "Look mister—— don’t you think you ought to come into town with me? There might not be anybody long here for days and you'll find It cold if you have to walk Intp town tonight" He wu out of the car now and had swung his pack over his back He turned and looked at me for the aec-' ond time "I’ll not be going Into town tonight I’m staying here" I began to protest A wave of his hand silenced me He straightened a little shifted his pack and then his face seemed to come to life his manner became earnest and pointed “You said back there that ‘these old places could tell a story if they could talk You’re right they could This one here" and he nodded at the gray buildings "can tell a story about me that would answer a lot of questions about me that X know are 4 I f I i ' i! There are two or three problems in our story today that are of real interest to our story writers First of all is the point of viewi This is what most people know as a boxed story that is it is started by the author with an explanation as to how he met another person who becomes the real teller of the atory it being told not to the public but to the author whose introduction and sometimes also his dosing after the other has finished telling the story forms the box ’ There is one very distinct advantage in this type of telling It arises out of the fact that the general tendency of all readers when the author1 is telling the story himself in the third personal point of view is to have Some doubts as to the truth of all or parts of the story especially when it is clearly to be seen that the author could not possibly have been present at all of the places of action ! In such case if the author will box the story pretending that 'all he is is the reporter of the story which was told to him by another party he can put over oven some very improbably things It is therefore well if one has a story that will be difficult for the readers to ‘believe to adopt this way "J of telling (It also has another advantage It allows the use Prof Quivey ’'of the first’ personal point of view without the least flavor of boasting or egotism on the part of the actor who Is telling the story because the author can furnish such material in his box before he allows the actor to tell the story The question in using this wayoften comes uji as to whether the Inside teller of the story would confide all that he does to the author We feel that this is so In the story today It is Improbably that the old man would have told f h his story on such short notice to the author This can be guarded against by what is told In the box If the writer can show such previous intimate relations with the teller or If he can present some other reasons why a stranger should tell him the story he does not destroy the feeling of the truth of the story but this must be established if there is to be a feeling of confidence on the part of the reader This story also brought up in our mind the question of authorial entrance into the story We can say right now that It is considered very bad rt even If so great a story teller as Thackeray did commit this sin with great regularity Our readers will remember how in "Vanity Fair” after or during a scene he steps out on the stage and tells one just how he ought to think and believe about Becky and enany others of his characters but he seems to be particularly fearful that the right things will not be thought in regard to Becky with whom " Thackeray was very much infatuated We find some of this in this story The error arises from the fact that it is offensive to an intelligent reader to be told what he ought to think He has all the evidence before him and he feels that he a member of the jury with I f to make Judgment power 4 In another way we feel some failure in this story We were disappointed in the diction given the old man' When one considers what he is represented to have been and when one remembers his age one feels that the words given him do not quite fit into the character After all the language given to any actor on the stage of the story is one of the chief means of characterizing him and considerable thought should bd given to Its choice Out tf one’s mouth la he betrayed the very inner self add a writer la neglecting one of hia greatest chances to build the character of the person if he does not think carefully what words grammar and aentenee structure to give him H be-g- an ings I -- 4 1 4 (During the past three yean we have been printing longer or shorter portions of the chapter entitled "Characterization" of my text on the short story That is now finished It embodied the kinds and theory of characterization and had no directions as to applications We now begin a shorter series on how to go about the building of characters Clip and preserve these for they make a complete handling of jthi subject — L A Q) s well-being- 4-- ' I that-there’- The lane down which I was driving was rough and the ruts had caught the wheels o t my car and were throwing it haphazardly from side to side But behind my attentiveness to the road in the back of: my mind I was happy My rabbit hunt up on the bench had been quite successful Three large snowshoe hares in the back of my car a mental picture of a cozy living room at home with Mary and my young son Jim and a general all these sort of blended together to make even the feeling of dull November sky and the gray frozen landscape with its rough ragged growth of sagebrush seem very proper My preoccupation with the road- combined with my pleasant reflections brought me suddenly upon a lonely figure trudging along the lane whom I would ordinarily have seen much sooner as the country was flat and open His being out on this lonely country road must mean he was some j farmer who had been attending to some ' duty on his land and was now j 1 returning to his farmhouse My brakes squealed a little as my car slid to an undecided stop Being concerned with the road and coming upon him so suddenly I had given the man only a hurried glance and now as he turned to me I was very much surprised to see that his hair was long and white and blended into a thick white beard of equal hoariness which covered his entire face He was somewhat bent and wore soiled overalls supplemented by a jumper and his eyes I noticed them immediately were sad and a watery blue “Get in mister” I said as X leaned over and jopened the door "Thank you" His voice was mufman’s refusal to be sociable when I fled and throaty as though it had was so curious j I glanced at him in coming through the difficulty again brown-staine- d beard around h 1 I was surprised This time it was And "I’m he added then mouth only different He hadn’t spoken to me going a short distance just over this yet but he was looking at me and little knoll up ahead" as my glance hurriedly went his As I put the car Into gear1 X way I was again drawn to those snatched a glance at his face He was watery blue eyes I hastily thought sitting rather stiffly looking at the that this was the first time he had road ahead He showed? no desire for even looked at me since he got into conversation In the brief Instant that car But those eyes they were the X looked pt him I noticed that he had to me There was somespeaking a pack evidently a bed roll He had on behind their watery going thing pushed it over against the door Funsurfaces And now his voice came ny I hadn't noticed that before Guess thick above the sound of the motor the unusual appearance of his face "Yes they could tell a story” he had kept my attention off other said “Let me out at the next one things Then he wasn't a farmer you come to It’s on the' left hand Transient that's probably what he side of the road" was But what the devil was a tranLet him out at the next one we sient doing away up here off the came to the next deserted farm? main road Curiosity was fermenting would he want What the sam-hl- ll Inside me Why didn't he say someto get out at a place like that for? thing? Maybe just a place to sleep But no "Ugly 'weather we’re having" X he knew where It was He had evi' although I thought the weather dently planned on arriving there A - Problems i Story To Help New Writers s ! j ’ ( By Jack Bennett Lava Hot Springs Idaho j leaned forward Intensely interest- Here was a depth to this strange man that I had failed to recognize What was really behind this drab exterior? I felt as though life were speaking to me "I came here when I was about 4 f your age" he said as he moved slowly j up and down the floor that was cov- ered with pages from old magazines a few pieces of wood and some old "X homesteaded this place cloth built that barn out there this house ‘ I was strong in those days strong in body and my courage and hope were In your mind If It Isn’t too late’ strong I used to love the soil the sun the waving grain? my aoul he looked at the aky "come in with ‘ throbbed with every pulsation of life me for a spell and I’ll answer some about me I had a string of houses of those questions X don’t want you s fine bigrangy horses Two cows to go Into town and tell people There was always a slight pasture a crazy old man running from the dampness in that low place around out here on the bench" and behind the barn and my 'stock were he smiled slightly for the first time always fat from It" I felt strange as I followed the bent with the He( paused coughed figure across the open space in front ’ back of his hand to his mouth I of the house 1 1 felt as though the felt that one phase of his story was past had spoken to me and I was completed breathlessly waiting for more What "I met Sarah Ann Mason in your a climax this rabbit hunt was ' strange home town Maybe you know of having Neither of us had spoken since we ' the family" he paused and looked " at me "but no I guess not as Mrs left the car and now as we stood Mason has been dead for some years Inside the vacant house the silence and she was the last one" His voice felt heavy stifling The old man I droned hollowly through the room stood with hia back toward me He "Sarah and I were married six had put his pack down and was stand- months after we met Our love was ing in the center of the room His the most solid the most real thing face was slightly raised He seemed I have ever known It was with my to be peering at something on the wall Suddenly I had the strange t meeting of her that my life rounded its fullness It had never feeling that many little voices were ‘ out into been ' so i before it has never been whispering to him and that he was since ” ' listening I shook myself Foolish He had paused again I thought X But X remained silent -- A Tribune Short Story ! give you X ed Setting Intensified By Loneliness Cold Return Home’ I I can only a bare lifeless outline" t ws J i colored' materialst such as small bits of stone wood or even paperJ set together in such a manner that not only does the outline of the drawing appear perfectly done but the color is also shaded and toned by using very small pieces of the material even microscopic at times In order to get the exact gradation of shades as they change for instance in the cheek or a child So carefully and skillfully is ’ thif done that the masters of mosaic ' have produced pictures almost indistinguishable from paintings In (building characters many minds do somewhat the same thing One’s mental picture of the ideal man may have a very large slice of his father a portion from a favorite picture an-- 1 other part from Abraham Lincoln and so on until a complete character is built The combination of the composite and the mosaic is more common than the pure mosaic however The mental image may be largely by either process but certain portions will be supplied from one’s favorite heroes In case he starts from the composite and one finjs-i- t difficult to find all the pieces forTfiemosaifrwith which he began and turns to the composite picture for what he cannot supply t i i i i H r It BOUT BE BOSSED j BY YOUR LAXATIVK-RCUE- Y1 CONSTIPATION THIS MODEMS WAY eWhsn you &i gassy hasdachy logy du to doggsd-u- p bowals do as million at bodtimo do — taka F morning — thorough comfortablo rslisf hsiping you start ths day fttll of your normal snorgy and pap dialing liks a nt doesn’t disturb million! i your night’s rast or intarfars with work tho Faan-A-Minaxt day Tty tha charring gum laxative your mlf It tastes good it’s a family supply handy and economical Nt aan-A-M- int Faan-A-Mi- nt f FEEIl-fl-llllT- To |