BEGINNERS LUCK
OTHER WORKS:
SEDUCTIO AD ABSURDUM
TO
MITCHELL DAWSON
He stepped off the train at Lamy expectingnothing at all. He had no idea of the city hewas entering: what it looked like, how onepassed the time, what people one would know—itwas all unexplored. He had never in his lifebeen west of Buffalo. Mary, his mother, hadwritten him a few letters about it, but she hadnot had time to write much, and anyway shewas very busy finding out for herself. Maryexpected to settle down in Santa Fé for a longtime; it was good for her health out here andshe liked it.
Blake, on the other hand, had no plans. Hewas not supposed to have any: he was tooyoung to have plans. Mary had plans for him,no doubt, but as yet he had no notice of them.
He stood for two forlorn minutes on the platformat Lamy, wondering what to do next. Achauffeur—a stranger—found him and tookhim in hand and put him away, with the baggage,in a new limousine. The limousine thenturned around and began to drive up a windinghill, toward Santa Fé, Mary and revelation.
It was a beautiful drive up a long hill, theroad twisting and leading up and down in anintriguing manner. Blake tried hard to appreciateit, but his mind would not behave. Itkept reverting to another theme; a tiresometheme; a threadbare theme. His mind was anindependent disagreeable thing with a passionfor theatrical revivals. Just now it disregardedthe beautiful heights of the Sangre deCristo mountains and devoted itself to a NewEngland scene, the setting of an unpleasantmemory. Heedless of Blake’s desire, it carriedthe props to the stage and set them up.Wearily, Blake helped. Obediently he placedthe head-master’s desk in the exact middle ofthe head-master’s room, just below the windowthat looked out on the front view of the school.Doggedly he put the head-master into the chairbehind the desk, and sullenly took up his ownold position before the desk, facing Dr. Miller.Everything was ready, and with lifted handDr. Miller began the dialogue:
Dr. Miller: I regret the necessity of thismore than you can possibly realize, Lennard.Some day, I hope that you will rememberthis moment and then perhaps you willunderstand the difficulty of my position.This is a moment that I have been dreading,frankly, dreading for some months.
Blake: I’m very sorry, sir.
Dr. Miller: It is a little late to be sorry. Youmust understand it is too late. No amountof apology——
Blake: I wasn’t apologizing, sir. I said I wassorry. I haven’t apologized.
Dr. Miller: Very well, Lennard. I havewritten to your mother. I hope she willunderstand that I have done my best. Youwill leave here in the morning in time tocatch the nine-thirty. Your mother telegraphedthat you are to go——
Blake: I know. She telegraphed me.
Dr. Miller: I think that is all. Good-bye,Blake.
Blake: Good-bye, sir.
Dr. Miller: Once more, Lennard; I’m moresorry than I can say that this happened.
Blake: Yes, sir, good-bye, sir.
Here, at the exit, his mind was most tiresomeof all. Just here at the original performanceBlake had slipped while making his exit.He had done his best to leave that part outof the repetitions, but the more he struggledthe more ridiculous became the by-play