The Trail of the Hawk: A Comedy of the Seriousness of Life by Sinclair Lewis

Author:Sinclair Lewis [Lewis, Sinclair]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: City and town life -- Fiction, Minnesota -- Fiction
Published: 2008-09-13T21:00:00+00:00

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September 11: Off to Kokomo, to fly for Farmers’ Alliance.

Easy meet here (Newport, R.I.) yesterday, just straight flying and passenger carrying. Dandy party given for me after it, by Thomas J. Watersell, the steel man. Have read of such parties. Bird party, in a garden, Watersell has many acres in his place and big house with a wonderful brick terrace and more darn convenient things than I ever saw before, breakfast room out on the terrace and swimming pool and little gardens one outside of each guest room, rooms all have private doors, house is mission style built around patio. All the Newport swells came to party dressed as birds, and I had to dress as a hawk, they had the costume all ready, wonder how they got my measurements. Girls in the dance of the birds. Much silk stockings, very pretty. At end of dance they were all surrounding me in semi-circle I stood out on lawn beside Mrs. Watersell, and they bowed low to me, fluttering their silk wings and flashing out many colored electric globes concealed in wings and looked like hundreds of rainbow colored fireflies in the darkness. Just then the big lights were turned on again and they let loose hundreds of all kinds of birds, and they flew up all around me, surprised me to death. Then for grub, best sandwiches I ever ate.

Felt much flattered by it all, somehow did not feel so foolish as at banquets with speeches.

After the party was all over, quite late, I went with Watersell for a swim in his private pool. Most remarkable thing I ever saw. He said everybody has Roman baths and Pompei baths and he was going to go them one better, so he has an Egyptian bath, the pool itself like the inside of an ancient temple, long vista of great big green columns and a big idol at the end, and the pool all in green marble with lights underneath the water and among the columns, and the water itself just heat of air, so you can’t tell where the water leaves off and the air above it begins, hardly, and feel as though you were swimming in air through a green twilight. Darndest sensation I ever felt, and the idol and columns sort of awe you.

I enjoyed the swim and the room they gave me, but I had lost my tooth-brush and that kind of spoiled the end of the party.

I noticed Watersell only half introduced his pretty daughter to me, they like me as a lion but——And yet they seem to like me personally well enough, too. If I didn’t have old Martin trailing along, smoking his corn-cob pipe and saying what he thinks, I’d die of loneliness sometimes on the hike from meet to meet. Other times have jolly parties, but I’d like to sit down with the Cowleses and play poker and not have to explain who I am.

Funny—never used to feel lonely when I was bumming around on freights and so on, not paying any special attention to anybody.

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