Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Nowatlength,heknewthemeaningofitall.

           “Why—I—I,ILOVEher,”hecried.Neveruntilthenhaditoccurredtohim.Neveruntilthen,inallhisthoughtsofHilma,hadthatgreatwordpassedhislips.

           ItwasaMemnoniancry,thegreetingofthehard,harshimageofman,rough-hewn,flinty,granitic,utteringanoteofjoy,acclaimingthenewrisensun.

           Bynowitwasalmostday.Theeastglowedopalescent.AllabouthimAnnixtersawthelandinundatedwithlight.Buttherewasachange.Overnightsomethinghadoccurred.Inhisperturbationthechangeseemedtohim,atfirst,elusive,almostfanciful,unreal.Butnowasthelightspread,helookedagainatthegiganticscrollofranchlandsunrolledbeforehimfromedgetoedgeofthehorizon.Thechangewasnotfanciful.Thechangewasreal.Theearthwasnolongerbare.Thelandwasnolongerbarren,—nolongerempty,nolongerdullbrown.AllatonceAnnixtershoutedaloud.

           Thereitwas,theWheat,theWheat!Thelittleseedlongplanted,germinatinginthedeep,darkfurrowsofthesoil,straining,swelling,suddenlyinonenighthadburstupwardtothelight.Thewheathadcomeup.Itwastherebeforehim,aroundhim,everywhere,illimitable,immeasurable.Thewinterbrownnessofthegroundwasoverlaidwithalittleshimmerofgreen.Thepromiseofthesowingwasbeingfulfilled.Theearth,theloyalmother,whoneverfailed,whoneverdisappointed,waskeepingherfaithagain.Oncemorethestrengthofnationswasrenewed.Oncemoretheforceoftheworldwasrevivified