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Harvest 265
ourselves, he for the price of those old houses and I for
a few years of splendor and happiness. . . .
The only one whom life seems to teach nothing
is Schoolmaster Lordan. Oblivious of the stress
and storm of reality, he continues to be enraptured
with education, with culture, with the opportunities
offered by the large cities. He is particularly
proud of the Hurley children.
Lordan. The way you ve all got on ! I tell you what,
if every boy and girl I ever taught had turned out a fail
ure I d feel content and satisfied when I looked at all of
you and saw what I ve made of you.
Mary. What you ve made of us? I wonder do you
really know what you ve made of us?
Lordan. Isn t it easily seen? One with a motor car,
no less. ... It was good, sound seed I sowed long ago
in the little schoolhouse and it s to-day you re all reaping
the harvest.
"
Harvest
"
is a grim picture of civilization in
its especially demoralizing effects upon the people
who spring from the soil. The mock culture and
shallow education which inspire peasant folk with
awe, which lure the children away from home,
only to crush the vitality out of them or to turn
them into cowards and compromisers. The trag
edy of a civilization that dooms the tillers of the
soil to a dreary monotony of hard toil with little
return, or charms them to destruction with the
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