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    Loneliness

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    Page 1 of 8
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    He was the son of Mrs. Al Robinson who once owned a
    farm on a side road leading off Trunion Pike, east of
    Winesburg and two miles beyond the town limits. The
    farmhouse was painted brown and the blinds to all of
    the windows facing the road were kept closed. In the
    road before the house a flock of chickens, accompanied
    by two guinea hens, lay in the deep dust. Enoch lived
    in the house with his mother in those days and when he
    was a young boy went to school at the Winesburg High
    School. Old citizens remembered him as a quiet, smiling
    youth inclined to silence. He walked in the middle of
    the road when he came into town and sometimes read a
    book. Drivers of teams had to shout and swear to make
    him realize where he was so that he would turn out of
    the beaten track and let them pass.

    When he was twenty-one years old Enoch went to New York
    City and was a city man for fifteen years. He studied
    French and went to an art school, hoping to develop a
    faculty he had for drawing. In his own mind he planned
    to go to Paris and to finish his art education among
    the masters there, but that never turned out.

    Nothing ever turned out for Enoch Robinson. He could
    draw well enough and he had many odd delicate thoughts
    hidden away in his brain that might have expressed
    themselves through the brush of a painter, but he was
    always a child and that was a handicap to his worldly
    development. He never grew up and of course he couldn't
    understand people and he couldn't make people
    understand him. The child in him kept bumping against
    things, against actualities like money and sex and
    opinions. Once he was hit by a street car and thrown
    against an iron post. That made him lame. It was one of
    the many things that kept things from turning out for
    Enoch Robinson.

    In New York City, when he first went there to live and
    before he became confused and disconcerted by the facts
    of life, Enoch went about a good deal with young men.
    He got into a group of other young artists, both men
    and women, and in the evenings they sometimes came to
    visit him in his room. Once he got drunk and was taken
    to a police station where a police magistrate
    frightened him horribly, and once he tried to have an
    affair with a woman of the town met on the sidewalk

    before his lodging house. The woman and Enoch walked
    together three blocks and then the young man grew
    afraid and ran away. The woman had been drinking and
    the incident amused her. She leaned against the wall of
    a building and laughed so heartily that another man
    stopped and laughed with her. The two went away
    together, still laughing, and Enoch crept off to his
    room trembling and vexed.

    The room in which young Robinson lived in
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