Katherine Anne Porter: Collected Stories and Essays by Katherine Anne Porter

Author:Katherine Anne Porter [Porter, Katherine Anne]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Classics, Writing, Pulitzer
ISBN: 9781598530292
Goodreads: 3183818
Published: 1993-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

Noon Wine

difference between them and anybody else. I always say, if that’s the way a man feels, don’t care who he associates with, why, why, that’s his business, not mine. I don’t wanta have a thing to do with it. Now back home in North Dakota, we don’t feel that way. I’d like to a seen anybody hiring a loonatic there, aspecially after what he done.”

“I didn’t understand your home was North Dakota,” said Mr.

Thompson. “I thought you said Georgia.”

“I’ve got a married sister in North Dakota,” said Mr. Hatch,

“married a Swede, but a white man if ever I saw one. So I say we because we got into a little business together out that way. And it seems like home, kind of.”

“What did he do?” asked Mr. Thompson, feeling very uneasy again.

“Oh, nothin’ to speak of,” said Mr. Hatch, jovially, “jus’ went loony one day in the hayfield and shoved a pitchfork right square through his brother, when they was makin’ hay. They was goin’ to execute him, but they found out he had went crazy with the heat, as the feller says, and so they put him in the asylum. That’s all he done. Nothin’ to get lathered up about, ha, ha, ha!” he said, and taking out his sharp knife he began to slice off a chew as carefully as if he were cutting cake.

“Well,” said Mr. Thompson, “I don’t deny that’s news. Yes, sir, news. But I still say somethin’ must have drove him to it. Some men make you feel like giving ‘em a good killing just by lookin’ at you. His brother may a been a mean ornery cuss.”

“Brother was going to get married,” said Mr. Hatch; “used to go courtin’ his girl nights. Borrowed Mr. Helton’s harmonica to give her a serenade one evenin’, and lost it. Brand new harmonica.”

“He thinks a heap of his harmonicas,” said Mr. Thompson.

“Only money he ever spends, now and then he buys hisself a new one. Must have a dozen in that shack, all kinds and sizes.”

“Brother wouldn’t buy him a new one,” said Mr. Hatch, “so Mr.

Helton just ups, as I says, and runs his pitchfork through his brother. Now you know he musta been crazy to get all worked up over a little thing like that.”

“Sounds like it,” said Mr. Thompson, reluctant to agree in anything with this intrusive and disagreeable fellow. He kept thinking

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