the house of pride and other tales of hawaii-第16章

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separate　desk；　but　there　were　days　when　we　did　not　sit　at　all；　for　

the　master　used　to　get　drunk　very　often；　and　then　one　of　the　elder　

boys　would　thrash　him。　　To　even　things　up；　the　master　would　then　

thrash　the　younger　lads；　so　you　can　think　what　sort　of　school　it　

was。　　There　was　no　one　belonging　to　me；　or　associated　with　me　in　any　

way；　who　had　literary　tastes　or　ideas；　the　nearest　I　can　make　to　it　

is　that　my　great…grandfather　was　a　circuit　writer；　a　Welshman；　known　

as　〃Priest〃　Jones　in　the　backwoods；　where　his　enthusiasm　led　him　to　

scatter　the　Gospel。



One　of　my　earliest　and　strongest　impressions　was　of　the　ignorance　of　

other　people。　　I　had　read　and　absorbed　Washington　Irving's　

〃Alhambra〃　before　I　was　nine；　but　could　never　understand　how　it　was　

that　the　other　ranchers　knew　nothing　about　it。　　Later　I　concluded　

that　this　ignorance　was　peculiar　to　the　country；　and　felt　that　those　

who　lived　in　cities　would　not　be　so　dense。　　One　day　a　man　from　the　

city　came　to　the　ranch。　　He　wore　shiny　shoes　and　a　cloth　coat；　and　I　

felt　that　here　was　a　good　chance　for　me　to　exchange　thoughts　with　an　

enlightened　mind。　　From　the　bricks　of　an　old　fallen　chimney　I　had　

built　an　Alhambra　of　my　own；　towers；　terraces；　and　all　were　

complete；　and　chalk　inscriptions　marked　the　different　sections。　　

Here　I　led　the　city　man　and　questioned　him　about　〃The　Alhambra；〃　but　

he　was　as　ignorant　as　the　man　on　the　ranch；　and　then　I　consoled　

myself　with　the　thought　that　there　were　only　two　clever　people　in　

the　worldWashington　Irving　and　myself。



My　other　reading…matter　at　that　time　consisted　mainly　of　dime　

novels；　borrowed　from　the　hired　men；　and　newspapers　in　which　the　

servants　gloated　over　the　adventures　of　poor　but　virtuous　shop…

girls。



Through　reading　such　stuff　my　mind　was　necessarily　ridiculously　

conventional；　but　being　very　lonely　I　read　everything　that　came　my　

way；　and　was　greatly　impressed　by　Ouida's　story　〃Signa；〃　which　I　

devoured　regularly　for　a　couple　of　years。　　I　never　knew　the　finish　

until　I　grew　up；　for　the　closing　chapters　were　missing　from　my　copy；　

so　I　kept　on　dreaming　with　the　hero；　and；　like　him；　unable　to　see　

Nemesis；　at　the　end。　　My　work　on　the　ranch　at　one　time　was　to　watch　

the　bees；　and　as　I　sat　under　a　tree　from　sunrise　till　late　in　the　

afternoon；　waiting　for　the　swarming；　I　had　plenty　of　time　to　read　

and　dream。　　Livermore　Valley　was　very　flat；　and　even　the　hills　

around　were　then　to　me　devoid　of　interest；　and　the　only　incident　to　

break　in　on　my　visions　was　when　I　gave　the　alarm　of　swarming；　and　

the　ranch　folks　rushed　out　with　pots；　pans；　and　buckets　of　water。　　I　

think　the　opening　line　of　〃Signa〃　was　〃It　was　only　a　little　lad；〃　

yet　he　had　dreams　of　becoming　a　great　musician；　and　having　all　

Europe　at　his　feet。　　Well；　I　was　only　a　little　lad；　too；　but　why　

could　not　I　become　what　〃Signa〃　dreamed　of　being？



Life　on　a　Californian　ranch　was　then　to　me　the　dullest　possible　

existence；　and　every　day　I　thought　of　going　out　beyond　the　sky…line　

to　see　the　world。　　Even　then　there　were　whispers；　promptings；　my　

mind　inclined　to　things　beautiful；　although　my　environment　was　

unbeautiful。　　The　hills　and　valleys　around　were　eyesores　and　aching　

pits；　and　I　never　loved　them　till　I　left　them。



Before　I　was　eleven　I　left　the　ranch　and　came　to　Oakland；　where　I　

spent　so　much　of　my　time　in　the　Free　Public　Library；　eagerly　reading　

everything　that　came　to　hand；　that　I　developed　the　first　stages　of　

St。　Vitus'　dance　from　lack　of　exercise。　　Disillusions　quickly　

followed；　as　I　learned　more　of　the　world。　　At　this　time　I　made　my　

living　as　a　newsboy；　selling　papers　in　the　streets；　and　from　then　on　

until　I　was　sixteen　I　had　a　thousand　and　one　different　occupations

work　and　school；　school　and　workand　so　it　ran。



*　*　*



Then　the　adventure…lust　was　strong　within　me；　and　I　left　home。　　I　

didn't　run；　I　just　leftwent　out　in　the　bay；　and　joined　the　oyster　

pirates。　　The　days　of　the　oyster　pirates　are　now　past；　and　if　I　had　

got　my　dues　for　piracy；　I　would　have　been　given　five　hundred　years　

in　prison。　　Later；　I　shipped　as　a　sailor　on　a　schooner；　and　also　

took　a　turn　at　salmon　fishing。　　Oddly　enough；　my　next　occupation　was　

on　a　fish…patrol；　where　I　was　entrusted　with　the　arrest　of　any　

violators　of　the　fishing　laws。　　Numbers　of　lawless　Chinese；　Greeks；　

and　Italians　were　at　that　time　engaged　in　illegal　fishing；　and　many　

a　patrolman　paid　his　life　for　his　interference。　　My　only　weapon　on　

duty　was　a　steel　table…fork；　but　I　felt　fearless　and　a　man　when　I　

climbed　over　the　side　of　a　boat　to　arrest　some　marauder。



Subsequently　I　shipped　before　the　mast　and　sailed　for　the　Japanese　

coast　on　a　seal…hunting　expedition；　later　going　to　Behring　Sea。　　

After　sealing　for　seven　months　I　came　back　to　California　and　took　

odd　jobs　at　coal　shovelling　and　longshoring　and　also　in　a　jute　

factory；　where　I　worked　from　six　in　the　morning　until　seven　at　

night。　　I　had　planned　to　join　the　same　lot　for　another　sealing　trip　

the　following　year；　but　somehow　I　missed　them。　　They　sailed　away　on　

the　Mary　Thomas；　which　was　lost　with　all　hands。



In　my　fitful　school…days　I　had　written　the　usual　compositions；　which　

had　been　praised　in　the　usual　way；　and　while　working　in　the　jute　

mills　I　still　made　an　occasional　try。　　The　factory　occupied　thirteen　

hours　of　my　day；　and　being　young　and　husky；　I　wanted　a　little　time　

for　myself；　so　there　was　little　left　for　composition。　　The　San　

Francisco　Call　offered　a　prize　for　a　descriptive　article。　　My　mother　

urged　me　to　try　for　it；　and　I　did；　taking　for　my　subject　〃Typhoon　

off　the　Coast　of　Japan。〃　　Very　tired　and　sleepy；　knowing　I　had　to　be　

up　at　half…past　five；　I　began　the　article　at　midnight　and　worked　

straight　on　until　I　had　written　two　thousand　words；　the　limit　of　the　

article；　but　with　my　idea　only　half　worked　out。　　The　next　night；　

under　the　same　conditions；　I　continued；　adding　another　two　thousand　

words　before　I　finished；　and　then　the　third　night　I　spent　in　cutting　

out　the　excess；　so　as　to　bring　the　article　within　the　conditions　of　

the　contest。　　The　first　prize　came　to　me；　and　the　second　and　third　

went　to　students　of　the　Stanford　and　Berkeley　Universities。



My　success　in　the　San　Francisco　Call　competition　seriously　turned　my　

thoughts　to　writing；　but　my　blood　was　still　too　hot　for　a　settled　

routine；　so　I　practically　deferred　literature；　beyond　writing　a　

little　gush　for　the　Call；　which　that　journal　promptly　rejected。



I　tramped　all　through　the　United　States；　from　California　to　Boston；　

and　up　and　down；　returning　to　the　Pacific　coast　by　way　of　Canada；　

where　I　got　into　jail　and　served　a　term　for　vagrancy；　and　the　whole　

tramping　experience　made　me　become　a　Socialist。　　Previously　I　had　

been　impressed　by　the　dignity　of　labour；　and；　without　having　read　

Carlyle　or　Kipling；　I　had　formulated　a　gospel　of　work　which　put　

theirs　in　the　shade。　　Work　was　everything。　　It　was　sanctification　

and　salvation。　　The　pride　I　took　in　a　hard　day's　work　well　done　

would　be　inconceivable　to　you。　　I　was　as　faithful　a　wage…slave　as　

ever　a　capitalist　exploited。　　In　short；　my　joyous　individualism　was　

dominated　by　the　orthodox　bourgeois　ethics。　　I　had　fought　my　way　

from　the　open　west；　where　men　bucked　big　and　the　job　hunted　the　man；　

to　the　congested　labour　centres　of　the　eastern　states；　where　men　

were　small　potatoes　and　hunted　the　job　for　all　they　were　worth；　and　

I　found　myself　looking　upon　life　from　a　new　and　totally　different　

angle。　　I　saw　the　workers　in　the　shambles　at　the　bottom　of　the　

Social　Pit。　　I　swore　I　would　never　again　do　a　hard　day's　work　with　

my　body　except　where　absolutely　compelled　to；　and　I　have　been　busy　

ever　since　running　away　from　hard　bodily　labour。



In　my　nineteenth　year　I　returned　to　Oakland　and　started　at　the　High　

School；　which　ran　the　usual　school　magazine。　　This　publication　was　a　

weeklyno；　I　guess　a　monthlyone；　and　I　wrote　stories　for　it；　very　

little　imaginary；　just　recitals　of　my　sea　and　tramping　experiences。　　

I　remained　there　a　year；　doing　janitor　work　as　a　means　of　

livelihood；　and　leaving　eventually　because　the　strain　was　more　than　

I　could　bear。　　At　this　time　my　socialistic　utterances　had　attracted　

considerable　attention；　and　I　was　known　as　the　〃Boy　Socialist；〃　a　

distinction　that　brought　about　my　arrest　for　street…talking。　　After　

leaving　the　High　School；　in　three　months　cramming　by　myself；　I　took　

the　three　years'　work　for　that　time　and　entered　the　University　of　

California。　　I　hated　to　give　up　the　hope　of　a　University　education　

and　worked　in　a　laundry　and　with　my　pen　to　help　me　keep　on。　　This　

was　the　only　time　I　worked　because　I　loved　it；　but　the　task　was　too　

much；　and　when　half…way　through　my　Freshman　year　I　had　to　quit。



I　worked　away　ironing　shirts　and　other　things　in　the　laundry；　and　

wrote　in　all　my　spare　time。　　I　tried　to　keep　on　at　both；　but　often　

fell　asleep　with　the　pen　in　my　hand。　　Then　I　left　the　laundry　and　

wrote　all　the　time；　and　lived　and　dreamed　again。　　After　three　

months'　trial　I　gave　up　writing；　having　decided　that　I　was　a　

failure；　and　left　for　the　Klondike　to　prospect　for　gold。　　At　the　end　

of　the　year；　owing　to　the　outbreak　of　scurvy；　I　was　compelled　to　

come　out；　and　on　the　homeward　journey　of　1；900　miles　in　an　open　boat　

made　the　only　notes　of　the　trip。　　It　was　in　the　Klondike　I　found　

myself。　　There　nobody　talks。　　Everybody　thinks。　　You　get　your　true　

perspective。　　I　got　mine。



While　I　was　in　the　Klondike　my　father　died；　and　the　burden　of　the　

family　fell　on　my　shoulders。　　Times　were　bad　in　California；　and　I　

could　get　no　work。　　While　trying　for　it　I　wrote　〃Down　the　River；〃　

which　was　rejected。　　During　the　wait　for　this　rejection　I　wrote　a　

twenty…thousand　word　serial　for　a　news　company；　which　was　also　

rejected。　　Pending　each　rejection　I　still　kept　on　writing　fresh　

stuff。　　I　did　not　know　what　an　editor　looked　like。　　I　did　not　know　a　

soul　who　had　ever　published　anything。　　Finally　a　story　was　accepted　

by　a　Californian　magazine；　for　which　I　received　five　dollars。　　Soon　

afterwards　〃The　Black　Cat〃　offered　me　forty　dollars　for　a　story。



Then　things　took　a　turn；　and　I　shall　probably　not　have　to　shovel　

coal　for　a　living　for　some　time　to　come；　although　I　have　done　it；　

and　could　do　it　again。



My　first　book　was　published　in　1900。　　I　could　have　made　a　good　deal　

at　newspaper　work；　but　I　had　sufficient　sense　to　refuse　to　be　a　

slave　to　that　man…killing　machine；　for　such　I　held　a　newspaper　to　be　

to　a　young　man　in　his　forming　period。　　Not　until　I　was　well　on　my　

feet　as　a　magazine…writer　did　I　do　much　work　for　newspapers。　　I　am　a　

believer　in　regular　work；　and　never　wait　for　an　inspiration。　　

Temperamentally　I　am　not　only　careless　and　irregular；　but　

melancholy；　still　I　have　fought　both　down。　　The　discipline　I　had　as　

a　sailor　had　full　effect　on　me。　　Perhap