Altogether it was a good way of living for them who had a passion to be free inside them and this was true of all three of the Hersland children but mostly with Martha the eldest and the only daughter living, and the youngest David who was always searching to decide in him and no one could ever understand him, from day to day what life meant to him to make it worth his living. It was less in Alfred, this love of freedom, in Alfred who was soon now to be marrying Julia Dehning. He had some of it in him but not so strongly inside him as Martha and David and his father had it in them. Yes I say it again now to all of you, all you who have it a little in them to be free inside them. I say it again to you, we must leave them, we cannot stay where there are none to know it, none who can tell us from the lowest from them who are simply poor or bad because they have no other way to do it. No here there are none who can know it, we must leave ourselves to a poor thing like Alfred Hersland to show it, one who is a little different with it, not with real singularity to be free in it, but it is better with him than to have no one to do it, and so we leave it, and we leave the Alfred Herslands to do it, poor things to represent it, singularity to be free inside with it, poor things and hardly our own in it, but all we can leave behind to show a little how some can begin to do it.
Yes real singularity we have not made enough of yet so that any other one can really know it. I say vital singularity is as yet an unknown product with us, we who in our habits, dress-suit cases, clothes and hats and ways of thinking, walking, making money, talking, having simple lines in decorating, in ways of reforming, all with a metallic clicking like the type-writing which is our only way of thinking, our way of educating, our way of learning, all always the same way of doing, all the way down as far as there is any way down inside to us. We all are the same all through us, we never have it to be free inside us. No brother singulars, it is sad here for us, there is no place in an adolescent world for anything eccentric like us, machine making does not turn out queer things like us, they can never make a world to let us be free each one inside us.
And yet a little I have made it too strong against us in saying Alfred Hersland was the only one who could in this adolescent world represent us. The father David Hersland we cannot count for us, it was an old world that gave him the stamp to be different from the adolescent world around us. But there is still some hope for us in the younger David who is different from the people all around us, in him who always was seeking to be free inside him, to know it in him, and no one could ever understand him, what it was inside him that made it right that he should go on with his living. He as you shall hear in the history of him, does not really belong to the adolescent metallic world around him, and yet there was not that vital steadfast singularity inside him that custom passion and a feel for mother earth can breed in men. He did not have it really for him, custom, passion, certainty of place and means of living, stability within himself and around him, a feeling to be really free inside him and strong to be singular in his clothes and in his ways of living.
But now to make again a beginning, to tell of the father David Hersland and the ways he had in him to make himself strong and important inside to him and to prove the right way to educate his children and the singularities the old world had stamped on him.
David Hersland believed in hardening his children. He believed that everyone should make for himself his own beginning, that every one should win for himself his own freedom. This was always strong inside him with all the uncertain ways that he had in him, with all the strong starts and sudden changes in his way of educating the three children who had such different ways in them from the things he meant to give them.
Mostly at first they the children felt this in him in the ways they were ashamed of him in just the simple ways he had of doing in the ordinary every day living.
It is hard on children when the father has queer ways in him. Even when they love him they can never keep themselves from having shame inside them when all the people are looking and wondering and laughing and giving him a name for the queer ways of him.
Mr. Hersland as I have been often saying was in some ways a splendid kind of person, and that was one way one could look at him. In other ways he was an uncertain changeful angry irritable kind of a person with a strong feeling of being important to himself inside him and not always certain to make other men see why he had so much important feeling in him. And then one could think of him, as children when they were young girls and boys felt him, queer in the ways he had of doing things that made them feel a little ashamed to say he was a father to them when other children spoke about him.
These are some of the queer ways he had in him, the ways that made his children feel uncomfortable beside him. They were mostly just simple things in their ordinary living that gave his children this uncomfortable feeling for him.
David Hersland was a big man. He was big in the size of him and in his way of thinking. His eyes were brown and little and sharp and piercing and sometimes dancing with laughing and often angry with irritation. His hands would be quiet a long time and then impatient in their moving. His hair was grey now, his eyebrows long and rough and they could give his eyes a very angry way of looking, and yet one could love him, in a way one was not afraid of him. He never would go so far as his irritation seemed to drive him, and somehow one always knew that of him. He had not so much terror for his children as fathers with more kindness and more steadfast ways of doing. One always had a kind of feeling that what one needed to protect one from him was to stand up strongly against him. He would stop short of where he seemed to be going, anger was there but it would not force him on to the final end of angry acting. All one had to do was to say then to him "Alright but I've got a good right to my opinion. You started us in this way of doing, you have no right to change now and say that its no way for us to be acting." And so each one of the three children, Martha, Alfred and David would each in their own way resist him, and it made a household where there was much fierce talking and much frowning, and then the father would end with pounding on the table and threatening and saying that he was the father they were the children, he was the master, they must obey else he would know the way to make them. And the little unimportant mother would be all lost then in between the angry father and the three big resentful children. But all this was when they were beginning to be grown young men and women. When they were still children there was not any fierceness in the house among them.
And now to come back to the queer ways of him. As I was saying the father was a big man. He liked eating, he liked strange ways of educating his children and he was always changing, and sometimes he was very generous to them and then he would change toward them and it would be hard for them to get even little things that they needed in the position that was given to them by their father's fortune and large way of living.
In the street in his walking, and it was then his children were a little ashamed of him, he always had his hat back on his head so that it always looked as if it were falling, and he would march on, he was a big man and loved walking, with two or three of his children following behind him or with one beside him, and he always forgetting all about them, and everybody would stop short to look at him, accustomed as they were to see him, for he had a way of tossing his head to get freedom and a way of muttering to himself in his thinking and he had always a movement of throwing his body and his shoulders from side to side as he was arguing to himself about things he wanted to be changing, and always he had the important feeling to himself inside him.
And then as I was saying he was a big man and he was very fond of eating, he had had a brother who had died a glutton, and he liked to buy things that looked good to him, and it would always be a very big one, he never liked to undertake anything that was not large in its beginning. The only time in his life that he ever took a little thing was when he chose his wife the little gentle Fanny Hissen who as I have often been saying could only be sad not angry when