A Great Mistake by Stephen Crane
An Italian kept a fruit-stand on a corner where he had good aim at the
people who came down from the elevated station, and at those who went
along two thronged streets. He sat most of the day in a backless chair
that was placed strategically.
There was a babe living hard by, up five flights of stairs, who
regarded this Italian as a tremendous being. The babe had investigated
this fruit-stand. It had thrilled him as few things he had met with in
his travels had thrilled him. The sweets of the world had laid there
in dazzling rows, tumbled in luxurious heaps. When he gazed at this
Italian seated amid such splendid treasures, his lower lip hung low and
his eyes, raised to the vendor's face, were filled with deep respect,
worship, as if he saw omnipotence.
The babe came often to this corner. He hovered about the stand
and watched each detail of the business. He was fascinated by the
tranquillity of the vendor, the majesty of power and possession. At
times he was so engrossed in his contemplation that people, hurrying,
had to use care to avoid bumping him down.
He had never ventured very near to the stand. It was his habit to
hang warily about the curb. Even there he resembled a babe who looks
unbidden at a feast of gods.
One day, however, as the baby was thus staring, the vendor arose, and
going along the front of the stand, began to polish oranges with a
red pocket handkerchief. The breathless spectator moved across the
side walk until his small face almost touched the vendor's sleeve. His
fingers were gripped in a fold of his dress.
At last, the Italian finished with the oranges and returned to his
chair. He drew a newspaper printed in his language from behind a bunch
of bananas. He settled himself in a comfortable position, and began to
glare savagely at the print. The babe was left face to face with the
massed joys of the world. For a time he was a simple worshipper at this
golden shrine. Then tumultuous desires began to shake him. His dreams
were of conquest. His lips moved. Presently into his head there came a
little plan. He sidled nearer, throwing swift and cunning glances at
the Italian. He strove to maintain his conventional manner, but the
whole plot was written upon his countenance.
At last he had come near enough to touch the fruit. From the tattered
skirt came slowly his small dirty hand. His eyes were still fixed upon
the vendor. His features were set, save for the under lip, which had a
faint fluttering movement. The hand went forward.
Elevated trains thundered to the station and the stairway poured people
upon the sidewalks. Therewas a deep sea roar from feet and wheels
going ceaselessly. None seemed to perceive the babe engaged in a great
The Italian turned his paper. Sudden panic smote the babe. His hand
dropped, and he gave vent to a cry of dismay. He remained for a moment
staring at the vendor. There was evidently a great debate in his
mind. His infant intellect had defined this Italian. The latter was
undoubtedly a man who would eat babes that provoked him. And the alarm
in the babe when this monarch had turned his newspaper brought vividly
before him the consequences if he were detected. But at this moment the
vendor gave a blissful grunt, and tilting his chair against a wall,
closed his eyes. His paper dropped unheeded.
The babe ceased his scrutiny and again raised his hand. It was
moved with supreme caution toward the fruit. The fingers were bent,
claw-like, in the manner of great heart-shaking greed. Once he stopped
and chattered convulsively, because the vendor moved in his sleep. The
babe, with his eyes still upon the Italian, again put forth his hand,
and the rapacious fingers closed over a round bulb.
And it was written that the Italian should at this moment open his
eyes. He glared at the babe a fierce question. Thereupon the babe
thrust the round bulb behind him, and with a face expressive of the
deepest guilt, began a wild but elaborate series of gestures declaring
his innocence. The Italian howled. He sprang to his feet, and with
three steps overtook the babe. He whirled him fiercely, and took from
the little fingers a lemon.