The Penguin Book of American Short Stories by James Cochrane

Author:James Cochrane
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141959665
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2009-11-20T00:00:00+00:00

Stephen Crane

THE BRIDE COMES TO YELLOW SKY

1

THE great Pullman was whirling onward with such dignity of motion that a glance from the window seemed simply to prove that the plains of Texas were pouring eastward. Vast flats of green grass, dull-hued spaces of mesquit and cactus, little groups of frame houses, woods of light and tender trees, all were sweeping into the east, sweeping over the horizon, a precipice.

A newly married pair had boarded this train at San Antonio. The man’s face was reddened from many days in the wind and sun, and a direct result of his new black clothes was that his brick-coloured hands were constantly performing in a most conscious fashion. From time to time he looked down respectfully at his attire. He sat with a hand on each knee, like a man waiting in a barber’s shop. The glances he devoted to other passengers were furtive and shy.

The bride was not pretty, nor was she very young. She wore a dress of blue cashmere, with small reservations of velvet here and there, and with steel buttons abounding. She continually twisted her head to regard her puff-sleeves, very stiff, straight, and high. They embarrassed her. It was quite apparent that she had cooked, and that she expected to cook, dutifully. The blushes caused by the careless scrutiny of some passengers as she had entered the car were strange to see upon this plain, under-class countenance, which was drawn in placid, almost emotionless lines.

They were evidently very happy. ‘Ever been in a parlour-car before?’ he asked, smiling with delight.

‘No,’ she answered; ‘I never was. It’s fine, ain’t it?’

‘Great. And then, after a while, we’ll go forward to the diner, and get a big lay-out. Finest meal in the world. Charge, a dollar.’

‘Oh, do they?’ cried the bride. ‘Charge a dollar? Why, that’s too much – for us – ain’t it, Jack?’

‘Not this trip, anyhow,’ he answered bravely. ‘We’re going to go the whole thing.’

Later, he explained to her about the train. ‘You see it’s a thousand miles from one end of Texas to the other, and this train runs right across it, and never stops but four times.’

He had the pride of an owner. He pointed out to her the dazzling fittings of the coach, and, in truth, her eyes opened wider as she contemplated the sea-green figured velvet, the shining brass, silver, and glass, the wood that gleamed as darkly brilliant as the surface of a pool of oil. At one end a bronze figure sturdily held a support for a separated chamber, and at convenient places on the ceiling were frescoes in olive and silver.

To the minds of the pair, their surroundings reflected the glory of their marriage that morning in San Antonio. This was the environment of their new estate, and the man’s face, in particular, beamed with an elation that made him appear ridiculous to the Negro porter. This individual at times surveyed them from afar with an amused and superior grin. On other

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