A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School
A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School A Separate Peace.pdf - Southwest High School
52"I'm not sure, Leper, but I think there's one at the bottom of the slope.""Oh yeah, I guess there is." We always called him Leper to his face; he wouldn't haveremembered to respond to any other name.I couldn't keep from staring at him, at the burlesque explorer look of him. "What are you," Iasked at last, "um, what are you doing, anyway?""I'm touring.""Touring." I examined the long bamboo ski poles he held. "How do you mean, touring?""Touring. It's the way you get around the countryside in the winter. Touring skiing. It's howyou go overland in the snow.""Where are you going?""Well, I'm not going anywhere." He bent down to tighten the lacings on a puttee. "I'm justtouring around.""There's that place across the river where you could ski. The place where they have the ropetow on that steep hill across from the railroad station. You could go over there.""No, I don't think so." He surveyed the woods again, although his breath had fogged hisglasses. "That's not skiing.""Why sure that's skiing. It's a good little run, you can get going pretty fast on that hill.""Yeah but that's it, that's why it isn't skiing. Skiing isn't supposed to be fast. Skis are foruseful locomotion." He turned his inquiring eyes on me. "You can break a leg with thatdownhill stuff.""Not on that little hill.""Well, it's the same thing. It's part of the whole wrong idea. They're ruining skiing in thiscountry, rope tows and chair lifts and all that stuff. You get carted up, and then you whizzdown. You never get to see the trees or anything. Oh you see a lot of trees shoot by, but younever get to really look at trees, at a tree. I just like to go along and see what I'm passing andenjoy myself." He had come to the end of his thought, and now he slowly took me in, noticingmy layers of old clothes. "What are you doing, anyway?" he asked mildly and curiously."Going to work on the railroad." He kept gazing mildly and curiously at me. "Shovel outthose tracks. That work they talked about in chapel this morning. You remember.""Have a nice day at it, anyway," he said."I will. You too.""I will if I find what I'm looking for—a beaver dam. It used to be up the Devon a ways, in alittle stream that flows into the Devon. It's interesting to see the way beavers adapt to the
53winter. Have you ever seen it?""No, I never have seen that.""Well, you might want to come sometime, if I find the place.""Tell me if you find it."With Leper it was always a fight, a hard fight to win when you were seventeen years old andlived in a keyed-up, competing school, to avoiding making fun of him. But as I had gotten toknow him better this fight had been easier to win.Shoving in his long bamboo poles he pushed deliberately forward and slid slowly awayfrom me down the gradual slope, standing very upright, his skis far apart to guard against anythreat to his balance, his poles sticking out on either side of him, as though to ward off anyinterference.I turned and trudged off to help shovel out New England for the war.We spent an odd day, toiling in that railroad yard. By the time we arrived there the snow hadbecome drab and sooted, wet and heavy. We were divided into gangs, each under an oldrailroad man. Brinker, Chet and I managed to be in the same group, but the playful atmosphereof the apple orchard was gone. Of the town we could only see some dull red brick mills andwarehouses surrounding the yards, and we labored away among what the old man directing uscalled "rolling stock"—grim freight cars from many parts of the country immobilized in thesnow. Brinker asked him if it shouldn't be called "unrolling stock" now, and the old man lookedback at him with bleary dislike and didn't reply. Nothing was very funny that day, the workbecame hard and unvarying; I began to sweat under my layers of clothes. By the middle of theafternoon we had lost our fresh volunteer look, the grime of the railroad and the exhaustion ofmanual laborers were on us all; we seemed of a piece with the railroad yards and the mills andwarehouses. The old man resented us, or we made him nervous, or maybe he was as sick as helooked. For whatever reason he grumbled and spat and alternated between growling orders andrubbing his big, unhealthy belly.Around 4:30 there was a moment of cheer. The main line had been cleared and the first trainrattled slowly through. We watched it advance toward us, the engine throwing up balls ofsteam to add to the heavy overcast.All of us lined both sides of the track and got ready to cheer the engineer and passengers.The coach windows were open and the passengers surprisingly were hanging out; they were allmen, I could discern, all young, all alike. It was a troop train.Over the clatter and banging of the wheels and couplings we cheered and they yelled back,both sides taken by surprise. They were not much older than we were and although probablyjust recruits, they gave the impression of being an elite as they were carried past our drabranks. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, their uniforms looked new and good; theywere clean and energetic; they were going places.
- Page 1 and 2: 1John KnowlesA Separate Peace
- Page 4 and 5: 4Devon was both scholarly and very
- Page 6 and 7: 6sprang out, fell through the tops
- Page 8 and 9: 8a kitchen rattle from the wing of
- Page 10 and 11: 10true and sincere; Finny always sa
- Page 12 and 13: 12Withers, perched nervously behind
- Page 14 and 15: 14of the great northern forests. I
- Page 16 and 17: 163Yes, he had practically saved my
- Page 18 and 19: 18Up the field the others at badmin
- Page 20 and 21: 20that Finny could shine at it. He
- Page 22 and 23: 22"You can try it again and break i
- Page 24 and 25: 24tonks and shooting galleries and
- Page 26 and 27: 26But Finny gave me little time to
- Page 28 and 29: 28was weakened by the very genuinen
- Page 30 and 31: 30"Don't go." He said it very simpl
- Page 32 and 33: 325None of us was allowed near the
- Page 34 and 35: 34The door was slightly ajar, and I
- Page 36 and 37: 36We found it fairly easily, on a s
- Page 38 and 39: 38"Sure, I'll be there by Thanksgiv
- Page 40 and 41: 40Still it had come to an end, in t
- Page 42 and 43: 42"How many?""Who knows? Get some.
- Page 44 and 45: 44The houses on either side were in
- Page 46 and 47: 46"No, I wouldn't.""And I spent my
- Page 48 and 49: 48"What?" I pulled quickly around i
- Page 50 and 51: 50They laughed at him a little, and
- Page 54 and 55: 54After they had gone we laborers l
- Page 56 and 57: 56To enlist. To slam the door impul
- Page 58 and 59: 588"I can see I never should have l
- Page 60 and 61: 60"So," Brinker curled his lip at m
- Page 62 and 63: 62So the war swept over like a wave
- Page 64 and 65: 64We went into the gym, along a mar
- Page 66 and 67: 66you at the Funny Farm.""In a way,
- Page 68 and 69: 68large rambling, doubtfully Coloni
- Page 70 and 71: 709This was my first but not my las
- Page 72 and 73: 72Giraud but Lepellier; we knew, be
- Page 74 and 75: 74"Who wants a Winter Carnival?" he
- Page 76 and 77: 76Still the sleek brown head bent m
- Page 78 and 79: 78ELWIN LEPER LEPELLIER.
- Page 80 and 81: 80escapes from is danger, death, th
- Page 82 and 83: 82"That's what you say. But that's
- Page 84 and 85: 84a good boy underneath," she must
- Page 86 and 87: 86the Mess Hall, I had to eat every
- Page 88 and 89: 88"How's Leper?" he asked in an off
- Page 90 and 91: 90I didn't say anything."He must be
- Page 92 and 93: 92never will.""You're so wrong I ca
- Page 94 and 95: 94I believed you," he added hurried
- Page 96 and 97: 96acoustics in the school. I couldn
- Page 98 and 99: 98the tree did it by itself. It's a
- Page 100 and 101: 100"Here! Go get him," said Brinker
53winter. Have you ever seen it?""No, I never have seen that.""Well, you might want to come sometime, if I find the place.""Tell me if you find it."With Leper it was always a fight, a hard fight to win when you were seventeen years old andlived in a keyed-up, competing school, to avoiding making fun of him. But as I had gotten toknow him better this fight had been easier to win.Shoving in his long bamboo poles he pushed deliberately forward and slid slowly awayfrom me down the gradual slope, standing very upright, his skis far apart to guard against anythreat to his balance, his poles sticking out on either side of him, as though to ward off anyinterference.I turned and trudged off to help shovel out New England for the war.We spent an odd day, toiling in that railroad yard. By the time we arrived there the snow hadbecome drab and sooted, wet and heavy. We were divided into gangs, each under an oldrailroad man. Brinker, Chet and I managed to be in the same group, but the playful atmosphereof the apple orchard was gone. Of the town we could only see some dull red brick mills andwarehouses surrounding the yards, and we labored away among what the old man directing uscalled "rolling stock"—grim freight cars from many parts of the country immobilized in thesnow. Brinker asked him if it shouldn't be called "unrolling stock" now, and the old man lookedback at him with bleary dislike and didn't reply. Nothing was very funny that day, the workbecame hard and unvarying; I began to sweat under my layers of clothes. By the middle of theafternoon we had lost our fresh volunteer look, the grime of the railroad and the exhaustion ofmanual laborers were on us all; we seemed of a piece with the railroad yards and the mills andwarehouses. The old man resented us, or we made him nervous, or maybe he was as sick as helooked. For whatever reason he grumbled and spat and alternated between growling orders andrubbing his big, unhealthy belly.Around 4:30 there was a moment of cheer. The main line had been cleared and the first trainrattled slowly through. We watched it advance toward us, the engine throwing up balls ofsteam to add to the heavy overcast.All of us lined both sides of the track and got ready to cheer the engineer and passengers.The coach windows were open and the passengers surprisingly were hanging out; they were allmen, I could discern, all young, all alike. It was a troop train.Over the clatter and banging of the wheels and couplings we cheered and they yelled back,both sides taken by surprise. They were not much older than we were and although probablyjust recruits, they gave the impression of being an elite as they were carried past our drabranks. They seemed to be having a wonderful time, their uniforms looked new and good; theywere clean and energetic; they were going places.
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