Steavens is equally appalled by the cheap vulgarity of taste that is everywhere apparent in the decor of the house and can scarcely believe that Merrick could ever have had any connection with this place.
The lawyer closed the door gently behind him, leaned back against it, and folded his arms, cocking his head a little to one side. Steavens thanked him, but the nausea which had been gradually climbing into his throat for the last half hour left him with but one desire—a desperate feeling that he must get away from this place with what was left of Harvey Merrick.
Something in his tone made Steavens glance up. I like an order funeral myself. The burly man with the disheveled red beard walked swiftly up the platform toward the approaching train, uncovering his head as he went. The night express shot, red as a rocket, out of the eastward marsh lands, and wound along the river shore under the long lines of shivering poplars that sentineled the meadows, the escaping steam hanging in gray masses against the pale sky and blotting out the Milky Way.
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In a moment the red glare from the headlight streamed View Image of Page up the snow-covered track before the siding and glittered on the wet, black rails. We meant to be great men. You wanted me to be a shrewd lawyer—oh, yes! Our State is NJ. The long nose was distended and knobbed at the end, and there were deep lines on either side of it; her heavy, black brows almost met across her forehead, her teeth were large and square, and set far apart—teeth that could tear.
The banker laughed disagreeably, and began trimming his nails with a pearl-handled pocket-knife. The spare man shifted the quill toothpick he was chewing to the other side of his mouth.
Probably he helped it along with whisky. The baggageman stood by his truck, waiting to get at the trunks. The same misty group that had stood before the door of the express-car shuffled into the room.
The room is so close I am beginning to feel rather faint," murmured Steavens, struggling with one of the windows. The minister took out his handkerchief and blew his nose sonorously. Just then a distant whistle sounded, and there was a shuffling of feet on the platform. Banker Phelps closed his knife with a snap.
Steavens went on and on, reconstructing that whole miserable boyhood. Steavens, impressed by the tender and delicate modelling of the thin, tired face, had asked him if it were his mother. There was a kind of power about her face—a kind of brutal handsomeness, even; but it was scarred and furrowed by violence, and so colored and coarsened by fiercer passions that grief seemed never to have laid a gentle finger there.
We must also keep in mind that the technology and transportation at the time would also make it difficult to leisurely commute outside of your immediate area. The group on the platform swayed and shuffled uneasily. I like an order funeral myself.
The gate hung on one hinge, and was opened wide with difficulty. The other banker spoke up. The man with the red beard for the first time stepped up and joined the group. Feeble steps were heard on the stairs, and an old man, tall and frail, odorous of pipe smoke, with shaggy, unkempt gray hair and a dingy beard, tobacco-stained about the mouth, entered uncertainly.
The Paper Store, Inc. This time Steavens looked fearfully, almost beseechingly, into her face, red and swollen under its masses of strong, black, shiny hair. Was it possible that these men did not understand, that the palm on the coffin meant nothing to them?
We are told that the home of Harvey Merrick is a small town in Kansas, and can infer the time period due to the various means of transportation i. Of course the time frame to receive your paper might be extended as we have to wait for the payment to arrive.The Sculptor’s Funeral - a Short Story by Willa Cather There’s No Place Like Home “ The Sculptor’s Funeral”, a short story by Willa Cather, emphasizes the behavior and idea of parochialism & provincialism/5(1).
The young Bostonian, one of the dead sculptor's pupils, who had come with the body, looked about him helplessly. He turned to the banker, the only one of that black, uneasy, stoop-shouldered group who seemed enough of an individual to be addressed.
A 4 page essay that critically analyzes Cather's short story, "The Sculptor's Funeral." The writer argues that this is a masterpiece of the short story writer's art. Within the space of a few thousand words, Cather reveals truths about human nature and the human condition.
Compare & Contrast Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather Willa Cather This Study Guide consists of approximately 27 pages of chapter summaries, quotes, character analysis, themes, and more - everything you need to sharpen your knowledge of Death Comes for the Archbishop. Willa Cather does a tolerable job shaping the story of “The Sculptor’s Funeral.” There are many characters with hidden meanings that flow through the story.
Set in the early ’ s, Cather tells of a young artist’s deceased body adventuring home with. Romines, Ann, ed. Willa Cather’s Southern Connections: New Essays on Cather and the South. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, Shaw, Patrick W.
Willa Cather and the Art of Conflict: Re-visioning Her Creative Imagination.Download