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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Turmoil, a novel"

On every side he heard it--it was
a permeation; the newest school-child caught it, though just from
Hungary and learning to stammer a few words of the local language.
Everywhere the people shouted of the power, the size, the riches,
and the growth of their city. Not only that, they said that the
people of their city were the greatest, the "finest," the strongest,
the Biggest people on earth. They cited no authorities, and felt
the need of none, being themselves the people thus celebrated. And
if the thing was questioned, or if it was hinted that there might be
one small virtue in which they were not perfect and supreme, they
wasted no time examining themselves to see if what the critic said
was true, but fell upon him and hooted him and cursed him, for they
were sensitive. So Bibbs, learning their ways and walking with them,
harkened to the voice of the people and served Bigness with them.
For the voice of the people is the voice of their god.

Sheridan had made the room next to his own into an office for Bibbs,
and the door between the two rooms usually stood open--the father had
established that intimacy. One morning in February, when Bibbs was
alone, Sheridan came in, some sheets of typewritten memoranda in his
hand.


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