From: Arden Town (1913; Unpublished MS)
Author: Scott Nearing
Published:
Fred Allen left with well-meant promises. He would return for the pageant, at latest, he told the friends who bade him farewell. The fate which presides over the destiny of business men decreed otherwise, however, and it was Halloween before he again crossed the stile over which was written, “You are welcome hither.” He felt the welcome then, even more deeply than when he passed out under the words so many weeks before.
Although he was compelled to absent himself from Arden longer than he had expected, Fred Allen was able to see Ruth Wade with insistent regularity. At least once each week he arranged some plan that would enable them to be together. Lunches, the theatre, the opera, the orchestra, the art exhibit – each was called upon in turn to play subterfuge. Fred Allen extended his invitations generously; Ruth Wade accepted them gladly. For each, the society of the other seemed to add a touch of joy otherwise absent from the most inspiring programs. As Ruth grew in his soul, Eleanor Treat suffered first a temporary, then a permanent, banishment. Fred Allen began by neglecting her, and ended by forgetting her. Little by little the life of Ruth Wade mingled with his, and at times he realized with a start of sharp anxiety that as yet he had no claim at all upon her. Hence it happened that when Fred Allen concluded to accept the pressing invitation which Will Evans gave him to join in the Arden celebration of Halloween, he decided also that something must be done regarding the relations between him and Ruth Wade; so he set out for Arden with some very definite lines of action plotted out in his mind.
Arden Town was glorious at Halloween. There had been no hard frosts, but each chilly night and each hot morning sun had added its wonders to the oak leaves and the dogwood berries. The ivy blazed out in scarlet patches, setting off the somber yellow of the catalpas. The sumacs and the Virginia creeper shone among the shrubbery. In the meadows, the yellow goldenrod of the summer, turned a tawny brown, lent its flat color to the gray white grass, making in all a picture of quiet magnificence. Hanging over the whole entrancing scene was the cordial welcome and the spirit of peace. Fred Allen breathed deep draughts of the autumn air. Again he was in Arden!
That night they danced at the Club House, which had been decked out in the gayest finery that the woods could afford. Many of the children came, greeting Fred Allen with shy warmth. They remembered his khakis well. Even in the uniform of the city they loved him. The home-made orchestra played jovially; the autumn night wind, sweeping through the windows, cooled and blessed. Everyone was gay. Laughter and joyous talk accompanied the music.
After the dance was over, Fred Allen walked with Ruth Wade toward her house.
“You go up on the night train?” she questioned.
He nodded.
“We have missed you here in Arden,” she said frankly. “You helped a lot while you were here.”
“How could I do otherwise?”
“Everyone helps in Arden.”
“Yes, everyone helps.”
They walked on for a moment, then he said, hurriedly,-
“I am coming back, though, and soon.”
“We are always glad to see you,” she said again. His tone left her somewhat at a loss.
“Are you really glad to see me?” he asked quickly, bending over toward her and taking her arm.
She turned to him frankly. “Yes,” she said, “I am.”
“And you will always be?” He asked the question earnestly.
“That depends, but I think so.”
“Depends on me?”
“Very largely.”
He drew a deep breath. For the first time he felt the full impulse of her power – power over him, if she chose to use it. Yet she did not choose—or rather, she chose to wait. He waited too; so they walked on in silence until they had reached her house, where they found Will Evans sitting on the porch and gazing into the starlight. Without a word they sat down; nor was the silence broken until Fred began in a subdued voice,—
“I think I shall come down here—for good.”
Will Evans turned as though he had been struck.
“You,” he exclaimed, “you, for good!”
“Yes, why not?”
“Why should you come?”
“Why? I suppose because you have something here for which I have always longed in the depths of my being, but which I have never had. The brotherhood, the spirit of service, the joy of human work and human play—you never find those things in the city. Then, too, Arden Town is very beautiful, and I love the people dearly.”
“Then you will come down?” Will Evans asked.
“Yes, I will come.”
“And the business?”
“My business?”
“Yes, your business, of course.”
Fred paused a moment before he said,—
“For some time I have been contemplating an expansion of my business. All fall I have prepared for it in a half-hearted way. I need not do that. As it stands, the business almost runs itself. I can go up to town once each week, or perhaps twice. Here I can have a garden patch, a carpenter’s bench, and a little forge, and you—I can have all of you dear people. I think that I was made for this life. The other is so sordid, so narrowing, so barbarous, that I have learned to despise it—since I came to Arden.”
Will Evans turned his face aside.
“Listen a moment,” he said, “I want to tell you the story of a successful life.”
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