THE OTHER MARGARET
487
dime after they had taken their
~eats
were known to be nicer than
the people who rode in the subway for a nickel which they paid be–
fore admission. It was the first public conveyance to which "ner–
vous" parents entrusted their children-the conductors were known
for their almost paternal kindness. For example, if you found on your
trip to !School that you had forgotten your money, the conductor
would not fail to quiet the fear of authority that clutched your guilty
heart. But this old man had outlived his fatherhood, which had once
extended to all the bus-world of children. His own sons and daughters
by now would have grown and gone and given him the usual causes
for bitterness.
The old man's foolish triumph was something that must be un–
derstood. Elwin tried to know the weariness and sense of final loss
that moved the old conductor to stand on that small dignity of
his. He at once brought into consideration the conditions of life of
J
the old man, especially the lack of all the advantages that he himself
had had-the gentle rearing and the good education that made a
man like Stephen Elwin answerable for all his actions. It had long
been the habit of Elwin's mind to raise considerations of just this
sort whenever he had reason to be annoyed with anyone who was
not more powerful than himself.
But now, strangely, although the habit was in force, it did not
check his anger. It was bewildering that he should feel anger at a
poor ignorant man, a working man. It was the first time in his life
that he had ever felt so. It shamed him. And he was the more be–
wildered and asha1ned when he understood, as he did, that he was
just as angry at the boy as at the old man. He was seeing the boy
full grown and the self-pity and hatred taking root beside the urgency
and power. The conductor and the boy were links in the great chain
of the world's rage.
.
Clearly it was an unreasoning thing to feel. It was not what a
wise man would feel . At this time in his life Stephen Elwin had the
wish to be wise. He had never known a wi<>e man. The very word
sounded like something in a tale read to children. But the occasion for
courage had passed. By courage Elwin meant something very sim–
ple, an unbending resistance of spirit under extreme physical difficul–
ties. It was a boy's notion, but it had stayed with Elwin through
most of his life, through his business and his pleasure, and nothing
that he had ever done had given him the proof that he wanted. And
(
now that the chance for that was gone-he wac_; forty-one years old
-it seemed to him that perhaps to be wise was almost as manly a
thing as to be brave.
