d and swung himself on to one of
the cars.
By and by the train stopped again, and Jurgis sprang down and ran under
the car, and hid himself upon the truck. Here he sat, and when the train
started again, he fought a battle with his soul. He gripped his hands
and set his teeth together--he had not wept, and he would not--not a
tear! It was past and over, and he was done with it--he would fling it
off his shoulders, be free of it, the whole business, that night. It
should go like a black, hateful nightmare, and in the morning he would
be a new man. And every time that a thought of it assailed him--a tender
memory, a trace of a tear--he rose up, cursing with rage, and pounded it
down.
He was fighting for his life; he gnashed his teeth together in his
desperation. He had been a fool, a fool! He had wasted his life, he had
wrecked himself, with his accursed weakness; and now he was done with
it--he would tear it out of him, root and branch! There should be no
more tears and no more tenderness; he had had enough of them--they had
sold him into slavery! Now he was going to be free, to tear off his
shackles, to rise up and fight. He was glad that the end had come--it
had to come some time, and it was just as well now. This was no world
for women and children, and the sooner they got out of it the better
for them. Whatever Antanas might suffer where he was, he could suffer
no more than he would have had he stayed upon earth. And meantime his
father had thought the last thought about him that he meant to; he was
going to think of himself, he was going to fight for himself, against
the world that had baffled him and tortured him!
So he went on, tearing up all the flowers from the garden of his soul,
and setting his heel upon them. The train thundered deafeningly, and
a storm of dust blew in his face; but though it stopped now and then
through the night, he clung where he was--he would cling there until
he was driven off, for every mile that he got from Packingtown meant
another load from his mind.
Whenever the cars stopped a warm breeze blew upon him, a breeze laden
with the perfume of fresh fields, of honeysuckle and clover. He snuffed
it, and it made his heart beat wildly--he was out in the country again!
He was going to live in the country! When the dawn came he was peering
out with hungry eyes, getting glimpses of meadows and woods and rivers.
At last he could stand it no longer, and when the train stopped again he
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