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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506890" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Death of the Hired Man</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table<br>Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,<br>She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage<br>To meet him in the doorway with the news<br>And put him on his guard. "Silas is back."<br>She pushed him outward with her through the door<br>And shut it after her. "Be kind," she said.<br>She took the market things from Warren's arms<br>And set them on the porch, then drew him down<br>To sit beside her on the wooden steps.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"When was I ever anything but kind to him?<br>But I'll not have the fellow back," he said.<br>"I told him so last haying, didn't I?<br>'If he left then,' I said, 'that ended it.'<br>What good is he? Who else will harbour him<br>At his age for the little he can do?<br>What help he is there's no depending on.<br>Off he goes always when I need him most.<br>'He thinks he ought to earn a little pay,<br>Enough at least to buy tobacco with,<br>So he won't have to beg and be beholden.'<br>'All right,' I say, 'I can't afford to pay<br>Any fixed wages, though I wish I could.'<br>'Someone else can.' 'Then someone else will have to.'<br>I shouldn't mind his bettering himself<br>If that was what it was. You can be certain,<br>When he begins like that, there's someone at him<br>Trying to coax him off with pocket-money,--<br>In haying time, when any help is scarce.<br>In winter he comes back to us. I'm done."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Sh! not so loud: he'll hear you," Mary said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I want him to: he'll have to soon or late."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"He's worn out. He's asleep beside the stove.<br>When I came up from Rowe's I found him here,<br>Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep,<br>A miserable sight, and frightening, too--<br>You needn't smile--I didn't recognise him--<br>I wasn't looking for him--and he's changed.<br>Wait till you see."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Where did you say he'd been?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"He didn't say. I dragged him to the house,<br>And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke.<br>I tried to make him talk about his travels.<br>Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"What did he say? Did he say anything?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"But little."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Anything? Mary, confess<br>He said he'd come to ditch the meadow for me."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Warren!"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">" ;But did he? I just want to know."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Of course he did. What would you have him say?<br>Surely you wouldn't grudge the poor old man<br>Some humble way to save his self-respect.<br>He added, if you really care to know,<br>He meant to clear the upper pasture, too.<br>That sounds like something you have heard before?<br>Warren, I wish you could have heard the way<br>He jumbled everything. I stopped to look<br>Two or three times--he made me feel so queer--<br>To see if he was talking in his sleep.<br>He ran on Harold Wilson--you remember--<br>The boy you had in haying four years since.<br>He's finished school, and teaching in his college.<br>Silas declares you'll have to get him back.<br>He says they two will make a team for work:<br>Between them they will lay this farm as smooth!<br>The way he mixed that in with other things.<br>He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft<br>On education--you know how they fought<br>All through July under the blazing sun,<br>Silas up on the cart to build the load,<br>Harold along beside to pitch it on."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream.<br>You wouldn't think they would. How some things linger!<br>Harold's young college boy's assurance piqued him.<br>After so many years he still keeps finding<br>Good arguments he sees he might have used.<br>I sympathise. I know just how it feels<br>To think of the right thing to say too late.<br>Harold's associated in his mind with Latin.<br>He asked me what I thought of Harold's saying<br>He studied Latin like the violin<br>Because he liked it--that an argument!<br>He said he couldn't make the boy believe<br>He could find water with a hazel prong--<br>Which showed how much good school had ever done him.<br>He wanted to go over that. But most of all<br>He thinks if he could have another chance<br>To teach him how to build a load of hay----"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I know, that's Silas' one accomplishment.<br>He bundles every forkful in its place,<br>And tags and numbers it for future reference,<br>So he can find and easily dislodge it<br>In the unloading. Silas does that well.<br>He takes it out in bunches like big birds' nests.<br>You never see him standing on the hay<br>He's trying to lift, straining to lift himself."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"He thinks if he could teach him that, he'd be<br>Some good perhaps to someone in the world.<br>He hates to see a boy the fool of books.<br>Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk,<br>And nothing to look backward to with pride,<br>And nothing to look forward to with hope,<br>So now and never any different."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Part of a moon was falling down the west,<br>Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.<br>Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw<br>And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand<br>Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,<br>Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,<br>As if she played unheard the tenderness<br>That wrought on him beside her in the night.<br>"Warren," she said, "he has come home to die:<br>You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Home," he mocked gently.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Yes, what else but home?<br>It all depends on what you mean by home.<br>Of course he's nothing to us, any more<br>Than was the hound that came a stranger to us<br>Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Home is the place where, when you have to go there,<br>They have to take you in."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I should have called it<br>Something you somehow haven't to deserve."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Warren leaned out and took a step or two,<br>Picked up a little stick, and brought it back<br>And broke it in his hand and tossed it by.<br>"Silas has better claim on us you think<br>Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles<br>As the road winds would bring him to his door.<br>Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day.<br>Why didn't he go there? His brother's rich,<br>A somebody--director in the bank."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"He never told us that."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"We know it though."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I think his brother ought to help, of course.<br>I'll see to that if there is need. He ought of right<br>To take him in, and might be willing to--<br>He may be better than appearances.<br>But have some pity on Silas. Do you think<br>If he'd had any pride in claiming kin<br>Or anything he looked for from his brother,<br>He'd keep so still about him all this time?"</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I wonder what's between them."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I can tell you.<br>Silas is what he is--we wouldn't mind him--<br>But just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide.<br>He never did a thing so very bad.<br>He don't know why he isn't quite as good<br>As anyone. He won't be made ashamed<br>To please his brother, worthless though he is."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I can't think Si ever hurt anyone."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay<br>And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back.<br>He wouldn't let me put him on the lounge.<br>You must go in and see what you can do.<br>I made the bed up for him there to-night.<br>You'll be surprised at him--how much he's broken.<br>His working days are done; I'm sure of it."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I'd not be in a hurry to say that."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"I haven't been. Go, look, see for yourself.<br>But, Warren, please remember how it is:<br>He's come to help you ditch the meadow.<br>He has a plan. You mustn't laugh at him.<br>He may not speak of it, and then he may. <br>I'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud<br>Will hit or miss the moon."</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It hit the moon.<br>Then there were three there, making a dim row,<br>The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Warren returned--too soon, it seemed to her,<br>Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Warren," she questioned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">"Dead," was all he answered.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Robert+Frost">Robert Frost</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=506890" data-title="The Death of the Hired Man de Robert Frost" data-description="Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step, She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage To meet him in the doorway with the news And put him on his guard. "Silas is back." She pushed him o..."></div> </div> </div>
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