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Updated: June 13, 2025
Her photographic successes in risky exposures had brought her a marked increase of wages. She wore as many clothes as she could in private, to make up for her self-denial before the camera. Her taste in dress was soubrettish and flagrant, but it was not small-town. She was beginning to dislike ice-cream soda and candy and to call for beer and Welsh rabbit.
The general wretchedness of the serfs, the indifference of their owners to their condition, the pettiness and utter meanness of village gossip, the ridiculous affectations of small-town society, the universal ignorance, stupidity, and dulness all these are remorselessly revealed in the various bargains made by the hero. And what a hero!
Still we should call her a normal small-town child, certainly until her last year in grammar-school. She had some difficulty with her studies that spring because of her eyes. Her lenses, fitted in Atlanta, seemed to make them worse. It was only after she went to a noted specialist in Charleston that she was relieved.
He hurried his meal, glad to be relieved from the inimical scrutiny. He was glad to be free from this and from the determined recital by Metta Judson of small-town happenings.
Also that the only berth purchased on the train had been at a small-town stop about four o'clock in the morning. Obviously, then, the person who was to share the drawing-room with Warren, and for whom the second ticket had been bought, had never boarded the train. The trail had doubled back again to the woman in the taxicab.
They all laughed artificially, and Carol obediently "talked libraries." A small-town bungalow, the wives of a village doctor and a village dry-goods merchant, a provincial teacher, a colloquial brawl over paying a servant a dollar more a week.
This small-town life weighed him down, stifled him. The great man of Tarascon was bored with Tarascon.
Hainer to support the discussion, which they did in tones less discreet than the darkness warranted. "Where would he hail from, would you think?" queried the elder. "Iowa, maybe? Or Arkansas?" "Search me," answered young Wickert. "But it was a small-town carpenter built those honest-to-Gawd clothes. I'd say the corn-belt."
For the girl he felt a deep pity. In the past he had had knowledge of more than one other small-town girl led into wrong doing through the deadly monotony and flagrant hypocrisy of her environment.
Pity in such a crisis the poor country-jake legislator torn between his desire for a justifiable and expedient gain and his fear lest he should be assailed as a betrayer of the people's interests. To some of these small-town legislators, who had never seen as much as two thousand dollars in cash in all their days, the problem was soul-racking.
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