Earth Abides

When once they stalked the deer, or crouched shivering in the mud for the flight of ducks to alight, or risked their lives on the crags after goats, or closed in with shouts upon a wild boar at bay—that was not work, though often the breath came hard and the limbs were heavy. When the women bore and nursed children, or wandered in the woods for berries and mushrooms, or tended the fire at the entrance to the rock-shelter—that was not work either.

So also, when they sang and danced and made love, that was not play. By the singing and dancing the spirits of forest and water might be placated—a serious matter, though still one might enjoy the song and the dance. And as for the making of love, by that-and by the favor of the gods—the tribe was maintained.

So in the first years work and play mingled always, and there were not even the words for one against the other.

But centuries flowed by and then more of them, and many things changed. Man invented civilization, and was inordinately proud of it. But in no way did civilization change life more than by sharpening the line between work and play, and at last that division came to be more important than the old one between sleeping and waking. Skep came to be thought a kind of relaxation, and “sleeping on the job” a heinous sin. The turning out of the light and the ringing of the alarm-clock were not so much the symbols of man’s dual life as were the punching of the time-clock and the blowing of the whistle. Men marched on picket-lines and threw bricks and exploded dynamite to shift an hour from one classification to the other, and other men fought equally hard to prevent them. And always work became more laborious and odious, and play grew more artificial and febrile.

Only Ish and George were left standing there by Ezra’s porch-steps. Ish knew that George was getting ready to say something. Funny, Ish thought, you wouldn’t think anyone could pause until he had said something; George paused before

he said anything.

“Well,” said George, and then he paused again. “Well…. I guess I better go get some planks… so I can wall in the sides… after she gets deeper.”

“Fine!” said Ish. George at least, Ish knew, would get the work done. He had carried the habit of work over so strongly from the Old Times that he perhaps could never really play.

George went off after his planks, and Ish went to find Dick and Bob, who had been collecting and harnessing the dogteams.

He found the two boys in front of his own house. Three dog-teams were ready. A rifle-barrel was sticking out from one wagon.

Ish considered for a moment. Was there anything else he should take along?

He felt a lack.

“Oh, say, Bob,” he said, “run in, please, and get my hammer”.

“Aah, why do you want that?”

“Oh, well, nothing in particular, I guess. It might come in handy for breaking a lock.”

“You can always use a brick,” said Bob, but he went.