That  was  a  problem  for  Tom  and  he  settled  it
in  his  own  way.  He  let  himself  think  of  Helen
White  whenever  her  figure  came  into  his  mind  and
only  concerned  himself  with  the  manner  of  his
thoughts.  He  had  a  fight,  a  quiet  determined  lit-
tle fight  of  his  own,  to  keep  his  desires  in  the  chan-
nel where  he  thought  they  belonged,  but  on  the
whole  he  was  victorious.
And  then  came  the  spring  night  when  he  got
drunk.  Tom  was  wild  on  that  night.  He  was
like  an  innocent  young  buck  of  the  forest  that  has
eaten  of  some  maddening  weed.  The  thing  be-
gan, ran  its  course,  and  was  ended  in  one  night,
and  you  may  be  sure  that  no  one  in  Winesburg
was  any  the  worse  for  Tom's  outbreak.
In  the  first  place,  the  night  was  one  to  make  a
sensitive  nature  drunk.  The  trees  along  the  resi-


DRINK  263

dence  streets  of  the  town  were  all  newly  clothed
in  soft  green  leaves,  in  the  gardens  behind  the
houses  men  were  puttering  about  in  vegetable  gar-
dens, and  in  the  air  there  was  a  hush,  a  waiting
kind  of  silence  very  stirring  to  the  blood.
