Now, the VOA Special English program, AMERICAN STORIES.
Our story today is called "A Pair of Silk Stockings." It was written by Kate Chopin. Here is Barbara Klein with the story.
Little
Missus Sommers one day found herself the unexpected owner of fifteen
dollars. It seemed to her a very large amount of money. The way it
filled up her worn money holder gave her a feeling of importance that
she had not enjoyed for years.
The question of investment was one
she considered carefully. For a day or two she walked around in a dreamy
state as she thought about her choices. She did not wish to act quickly
and do anything she might regret. During the quiet hours of the night
she lay awake considering ideas.
A dollar or two could be added to
the price she usually paid for her daughter Janie's shoes. This would
guarantee they would last a great deal longer than usual. She would buy
cloth for new shirts for the boys. Her daughter Mag should have another
dress. And still there would be enough left for new stockings — two
pairs per child. What time that would save her in always repairing old
stockings! The idea of her little family looking fresh and new for once
in their lives made her restless with excitement.
The neighbors
sometimes talked of the "better days" that little Missus Sommers had
known before she had ever thought of being Missus Sommers. She herself
never looked back to her younger days. She had no time to think about
the past. The needs of the present took all her energy.
Missus
Sommers knew the value of finding things for sale at reduced prices. She
could stand for hours making her way little by little toward the
desired object that was selling below cost. She could push her way if
need be.
But that day she was tired and a little bit weak. She had
eaten a light meal—no! She thought about her day. Between getting the
children fed and the house cleaned, and preparing herself to go
shopping, she had forgotten to eat at all!
When she arrived at the
large department store, she sat in front of an empty counter. She was
trying to gather strength and courage to push through a mass of busy
shoppers. She rested her hand upon the counter.
She wore no
gloves. She slowly grew aware that her hand had felt something very
pleasant to touch. She looked down to see that her hand lay upon a pile
of silk stockings. A sign nearby announced that they had been reduced in
price. A young girl who stood behind the counter asked her if she
wished to examine the silky leg coverings.
She smiled as if she
had been asked to inspect diamond jewelry with the aim of purchasing it.
But she went on feeling the soft, costly items. Now she used both
hands, holding the stockings up to see the light shine through them.
Two red marks suddenly showed on her pale face. She looked up at the shop girl.
"Do you think there are any size eights-and-a-half among these?"
There were a great number of stockings in her size. Missus Sommers chose a black pair and looked at them closely.
"A dollar and ninety-eight cents," she said aloud. "Well, I will buy this pair."
She
handed the girl a five dollar bill and waited for her change and the
wrapped box with the stockings. What a very small box it was! It seemed
lost in her worn old shopping bag.
Missus Sommers then took the
elevator which carried her to an upper floor into the ladies' rest
area. In an empty corner, she replaced her cotton stockings for the new
silk ones.
For the first time she seemed to be taking a rest from
the tiring act of thought. She had let herself be controlled by some
machine-like force that directed her actions and freed her of
responsibility.
How good was the touch of the silk on her skin!
She felt like lying back in the soft chair and enjoying the richness of
it. She did for a little while. Then she put her shoes back on and put
her old stockings into her bag. Next, she went to the shoe department,
sat down and waited to be fitted.
The young shoe salesman was
unable to guess about her background. He could not resolve her worn, old
shoes with her beautiful, new stockings. She tried on a pair of new
boots.
She held back her skirts and turned her feet one way and
her head another way as she looked down at the shiny, pointed boots. Her
foot and ankle looked very lovely. She could not believe that they were
a part of herself. She told the young salesman that she wanted an
excellent and stylish fit. She said she did not mind paying extra as
long as she got what she desired.
After buying the new boots, she
went to the glove department. It was a long time since Missus Sommers
had been fitted with gloves. When she had bought a pair they were always
"bargains," so cheap that it would have been unreasonable to have
expected them to be fitted to her hand.
Now she rested her arm on
the counter where gloves were for sale. A young shop girl drew a soft,
leather glove over Missus Sommers's hand. She smoothed it down over the
wrist and buttoned it neatly. Both women lost themselves for a second
or two as they quietly praised the little gloved hand.
There were
other places where money might be spent. A store down the street sold
books and magazines. Missus Sommers bought two costly magazines that she
used to read back when she had been able to enjoy other pleasant
things.
She lifted her skirts as she crossed the street. Her new
stockings and boots and gloves had worked wonders for her appearance.
They had given her a feeling of satisfaction, a sense of belonging to
the well-dressed crowds.
She was very hungry. Another time she
would have ignored the desire for food until reaching her own home. But
the force that was guiding her would not permit her to act on such a
thought.
There was a restaurant at the corner. She had never
entered its doors. She had sometimes looked through the windows. She
had noted the white table cloths, shining glasses and waiters serving
wealthy people.
When she entered, her appearance created no surprise or concern, as she had half feared it might.
She
seated herself at a small table. A waiter came at once to take her
order. She ordered six oysters, a chop, something sweet, a glass of wine
and a cup of coffee. While waiting to be served she removed her gloves
very slowly and set them beside her. Then she picked up her magazine
and looked through it.
It was all very agreeable. The table cloths
were even more clean and white than they had seemed through the window.
And the crystal drinking glasses shined even more brightly. There were
ladies and gentlemen, who did not notice her, lunching at the small
tables like her own.
A pleasing piece of music could be heard, and
a gentle wind was blowing through the window. She tasted a bite, and
she read a word or two and she slowly drank the wine. She moved her toes
around in the silk stockings. The price of it all made no difference.
When
she was finished, she counted the money out to the waiter and left an
extra coin on his tray. He bowed to her as if she were a princess of
royal blood.
There was still money in her purse, and her next gift
to herself presented itself as a theater advertisement. When she
entered the theater, the play had already begun. She sat between richly
dressed women who were there to spend the day eating sweets and showing
off their costly clothing. There were many others who were there only
to watch the play.
It is safe to say there was no one there who
had the same respect that Missus Sommers did for her surroundings. She
gathered in everything —stage and players and people -- in one wide
sensation. She laughed and cried at the play. She even talked a little
with the women. One woman wiped her eyes with a small square of lace and
passed Missus Sommers her box of candy.
The play was over, the
music stopped, the crowd flowed outside. It was like a dream ended.
Missus Sommers went to wait for the cable car.
A man with sharp
eyes sat opposite her. It was hard for him to fully understand what he
saw in her expression. In truth, he saw nothing -- unless he was a
magician. Then he would sense her heartbreaking wish that the cable car
would never stop anywhere, but go on and on with her forever.
You
have heard the story "A Pair of Silk Stockings" by Kate Chopin. Your
storyteller was Barbara Klein. This story was adapted and produced by
Dana Demange. I'm Jim Tedder. Listen again next week for another
American Story in VOA Special English.

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