The slip over Sweater

Jesse Stuart

"Now, if you don't get the sweater," Grace said as she followed me up the narrow mountain
path, "you mustn't feel too bad. Everybody in Gadsen High School knows that you've made
your letters. Just because you don't wear them like the other boys--"

Grace stopped talking before she finished the last sentence. And I knew why. But I didn't say
anything--not right then. I stopped a minute to look down over the cliffs into the gorge where
the mountain water swirled over the rocks, singing a melancholy song without words. Grace
walked over and stood beside me. And I knew
the sound of the roaring water did the same
thing to her that it did to me. We stood
watching this clear blue mountain water hit and
swirl over the giant water-beaten rocks,
splashing into spray as it had done for hundreds
of years before we were born.

The large yellow-gold leaves sifted slowly down

from the tall poplars. And the leaves fell like big
soft red raindrops from low bushy-topped
sourwoods to ferny ground. Dark frostbitten oak
leaves slithered down among the lacework of
tree branches to the leaf-carpeted ground. Two
of these oak leaves dropped onto Grace's ripe-wheat-colored hair. And a big yellow-gold
poplar leaf fell and stuck to my shirt. They were a little damp, for they fell from a canopy of
leaves where there was no sun.

Gold poplar leaves would look good in Jo-Anne Burton's chestnut-colored hair, I thought. And
how pretty the dark oak leaves would look on her blouse.I was sorry she wasn't with me
instead of Grace. I could just see Jo-Anne standing there with the red and yellow leaves
falling on her.
I would say, "Gee, you look wonderful with those golden leaves in your hair."

1
"Do you think so?" she would answer. And I could imagine her smile and her even, white
teeth. She was always gay and laughing.
I didn't say anything to Grace, but Grace knew how I felt about Jo-Anne. Grace and I had
gone to Plum Grove grade school together for eight years. I had carried her books from the
time I could remember.And we started walking five miles across the mountains to Gadsen
High School together. When we started to Gadsen, I was still carrying her books.I'd carried
them down and up this mountain for three years. But I was not carrying her books this year
and I wouldn't be again, for Gadsen was a bigger school than Plum Grove and there were
many more girls. But there was only one for me, and Grace knew who she was. She was the
prettiest and the most popular girl in Gadsen High School. When she was a sophomore, she
was elected May Queen.

Grace knew why I wanted the slip-over sweater. It wasn't just to show the letters and the
three stripes on the sleeve I'd won playing football three years for the Gadsen Tigers. Grace
knew that Roy Tomlinson had a slip-over sweater and that he was trying to beat my time
with Jo-Anne Burton. Grace had heard about Jo-Anne asking me one day why I didn't get a
sweater.

"You've got a small waist and broad shoulders," Jo-Anne had said, "and you'd look wonderful
in a slip-over sweater!"
I hadn't cared about having a sweater until Jo-Anne had said this to me. Now I wanted it
more than anything on earth. I wanted a good one, of the style, color, and brand the other
boys had bought. Then I could have my G and the three stripes sewed on, as my teammates
had done. They let their favorite girls wear their sweater. Jo-Anne was wearing Roy
Tomlinson's, and that hurt me.

Grace probably knew I was thinking of Jo-Anne now. And as she stood beside me, with leaves
falling onto her dress, I couldn't keep from thinking how they would look on Jo-Anne.

Why we had stopped at this high place every morning and evening for three years, I didn't
know. But it was here on the coldest days in winter, when the gorge below was a mass of
ice, that we listened to the water singing its lonesome song beneath the ice. And here in
early April we watched spring come back to the mountains.

2
We knew which trees leafed first. And even before the leaves came back we found trailing
arbutus that had sprung up beside the cliffs and bloomed. Then came the percoon that
sprang from the loamy coves where old logs had lain and rotted. It was the prettiest of all
wildwood flowers and its season was short. Grace and I had taken bouquets of this to our
high-school teachers before sprig of green had come to the town below.

Grace shook the multicolored leaves from her hair and dress when we silently turned to
move away. And I brushed the leaves from my shirt sleeves and trousers. We started up the
mountain as we had done for the past three years--only I used to take Grace's arm. Now I
walked in front and led the way. If there was a snake across the path, I took care of him. I
just protected Grace as any boy would protect a girl he had once loved but ceased to love
since he had found another girl who meant more to him than anyone else in the world.
"If I had the money," Grace said after our long silence, "I'd let you have it, Shan, to buy your
sweater."
"I'll get the money some way," I said.

Not another word was spoken while we climbed toward the ridge. But I did a lot of thinking. I
was trying to figure out how I could buy that sweater. I was not going to hunt and trap wild
animals anymore and sell their skins just to get clothing for my own skin. Books had changed
me since I'd gone to high school. I'd never have the teacher send me home because I had
polecat scent on me. I'd always bought my schoolbooks and my clothes by hunting and
trapping. But I'd not done it this year and I'd not do it again. I was determined about
that.Books had made me want to do something in life--for my girl. And I knew now that I
wanted to be a schoolteacher and teach math in Gadsen High School. And that's what I'd do.

When Grace started from the path across to her home, a big log house on Seaton Ridge, she
said good-bye. And I said good-bye to her. These were the only words spoken. We used to
linger a long time at this spot by a big oak tree. I looked over at the heart cut in the bark of
the oak. Her initials and mine were cut side by side inside the heart. Now, if I'd had my knife,
I would have gone over and shaved those initials and the heart from the oak bark. Now I
hoped that she would find some boy she could love as much as I loved Jo-Anne.

When I first realized I had to get the sweater for Jo-Anne, I had thought about asking Pa for
ten dollars. But I knew he wouldn't have it, for he raised light Burley tobacco, like Grace's
father, and it hadn't been a good season. Pa had not made enough to buy winter clothes for
my four brothers and six sisters. And another thing, I'd never in my life asked him for
3
money.I'd make my own way. I'd told my father I'd do this if he'd only let me go to high
school. He wasn't much on education. But he agreed to this, and I'd stick to my end of the
bargain.

That night I thought about the people I knew. I wondered if I could borrow from one of
them. I didn't like to borrow but I'd do anything to get Jo-Anne to take off Roy Tomlinson's
sweater and put mine on in place of it. Most of the people I knew did not have the money,
though.
At noon the next day the idea came to me: what are banks for? Their job is to lend money to
needy people--and that's why I walked straight to the Citizen's State Bank at lunch time. I
was a citizen, a student at Gadsen High School; and I needed money. I'd just tell him I
wanted very much to buy myself a sweater so I could put my school letter on it and my three
stripes--and be like the other high-school boys. I wouldn't mention Jo-Anne.

I stood nervously at the window. Mr. Cole was a big heavy man with blue eyes and a
pleasant smile. "Something I can do for you?" he asked politely.
"Yes sir," I stammered. "I'd like to have ten dollars."
"You want to borrow it?" he asked.
"Yes, sir." Now the worst was over.
"You go to high school, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Thought I'd seen you around here," he said. "You're the star player on the Gadsen Tigers--
you're Mick Stringer's boy."
"Yes sir," I said.
"What's your first name?" He started making out a note for me.
"Shan," I said, "Shan Stringer."

He shoved the note forward for me to sign. And he didn't ask for any collateral. If he had, I
don't know who I could have got to sign. I wasn't old enough to borrow money at the
bank. But it just seemed to me as if Mr. Cole read my mind. He knew I wanted the money
badly. So he gave me nine dollars and seventy-five cents and took a quarter for interest.

"This note will be due in three months," he said. "This is October twenty-eighth. Come back
January twenty-eighth. And if you can't pay it then, I'll let you renew for another three
months.Then we'll expect all or partial payment."

4
"Thank you, Mr. Cole."
I hurried to Womack Brothers' store and bought the sweater. It had a red body with white
sleeves-the Gadsen High colors. I would have Mom sew the white G on the front and the red
stripes on the sleeves as soon as I got home. I was the happiest boy in the world. Gadsen
High School has always been a fine place, but now it was wonderful. I loved everybody, but I
worshipped Jo-Anne Burton.

That afternoon when Grace and I walked through the town and came to the mountain path,
we talked more than we had in a long time. But I didn't mention what was in the package I
was carrying. We stopped at our place on the cliffs and looked down at the swirling waters in
the gorge. The dashing water did not sound melancholy to me. It was swift dance music like
a reel from old Scotland. Even the trees above us with their arms interlaced were in love. All
the world was in love because I had got what I wanted and I was in love.

The next morning Grace was waiting for me beside the old oak where we had cut our
initials.Grace was all right, I thought. She was almost sure to be valedictorian of our class;
and she was good-looking, too. But she didn't have the kind of beauty Jo-Anne had. Jo-Anne
was not only beautiful--she was always happy, laughing and showing her pretty teeth. She
wasn't one of the best students in the class--her grades were not high at all. But she was
friendly with everybody and as free as the wind. Her clothes were always pretty, they fitted
her much better than Grace's did. I loved the way she wore her clothes. I loved everything
about Jo-Anne. She held my love as firmly as the mountain loam held the roots of the wild
flowers and big trees.
"Why are you taking that bundle back to school?" Grace asked.
"Oh, just to be carrying something," I said.
Grace laughed as though she thought I was very funny.
We got to school early. When I had a chance to speak to Jo-Anne alone, I told her what I had.
"Oh, Shan!" she exclaimed. "Oh , you're a darling!"
"Brand new," I said. "You'll like it, Jo-Anne."
"Oh, I know I'll love it," she said. "I'll put it right on!"

I handed her the package, and she hurried off. I was never happier in my life. When she
came back she was smiling at me, her eyes dancing. She walked over to Roy Tomlinson and
handed a package to him. Everybody standing around was looking at Jo-Anne in the new

5
sweater with the three stripes on the sleeve--the only sweater in the school with three
stripes.Was Jo-Anne proud! And was I proud!
"Do you like it on me?" she asked as she walked up to me.
"Do you like it?" I said. "I love it."

She smiled happily, and I was glad that Roy could see now that I was the one Jo-Anne
loved.And everybody knew now that I was in love with her. Roy would probably wonder, I
was thinking, how I was able to buy that sweater. He had probably thought that he would be
able to keep Jo-Anne with his sweater and his two stripes because I'd never be able to buy
one for her. But Roy would never know how I got it--that would be a secret between Mr. Cole,
the banker, and me.
While the girls were admiring the sweater and many of my teammates were looking on, I
glanced over at Roy. He stood by, not saying a word, just looking at the sweater that had
replaced his. I hadn't expected him to react that way, and it bothered me. That noon Grace
came up to where we had gathered in front of the auditorium, and she was wearing Roy
Tomlinson's sweater.

"Boy!" Jim Darby exclaimed. "Look at Grace! Doesn't that sweater look swell on her!"
"She isn't the same girl!" Ed Patton said.
I stared at Grace. I didn't realize a sweater could make such a difference. Her clothes had
never become her. But this sweater did! There were many whispers and a lot of excitement
as we flocked into the auditorium. I was watching Grace move through the crowd in her new
sweater when Jo-Anne edged over close to me.
"You do like this sweater on me, don't you, Shan?" she asked.
"Sure do, Jo-Anne," I said. And I walked proudly beside her into the auditorium.

That afternoon, after I had said good-bye to Jo-Anne, I looked around for Grace. She was just
saying her good-bye to Roy. When she turned toward me, I could see that she was as proud
of that sweater as she could be. And Roy stood there looking after us as we started toward
the mountain together.
We stopped at the gorge, but we didn't stay very long. Grace did most of the talking and I
did the listening, but I didn't hear quite everything she said. I was wild with joy, for I was
thinking about Jo-Anne wearing my new red sweater.

6
At the football game Jo-Anne sat on the front bleacher and yelled for me. And Grace yelled
for Roy Tomlinson. Once when I made an eighty-five yard run for a touchdown, Jo-Anne came
up to me after the game and kissed me. I could outkick, outpass, and outrun Roy
Tomlinson. And I didn't brag when I said it. He earned another stripe that season, and so did
I. Grace sewed Roy's third stripe on his sweater with pride. She kept the sweater clean as a
pin. I'll have to admit she kept it cleaner than Jo-Anne kept mine.

When Grace was almost sure to be valedictorian, Roy Tomlinson could hardly stand the idea
of our walking over the mountain together. He walked with us to the edge of Gadsen. But he
never climbed the mountain and looked down at the gorge. He could just as well have come
along. His going with her didn't bother me, not exactly. She did of course seem close to me--
like a sister. As we walked along together, I saw the trees along the ridge where we had had
our playhouses and grapevine swings. I saw the coves where we had gathered bouquets of
trailing arbutus and percoon. And those initials on the oak reminded me of the days when we
were little.
It was in the basketball season, just before the regional tournament, when I received a
notice from the bank that my note was due. With the other little expenses I had at school,
even twenty-five cents wasn't easy to get.

If the interest is hard to get, I thought, what will I do about the principal? What if I have to
take the sweater from Jo-Anne and sell it to make a payment on the principal?
But when my mother let me have fifty cents and I paid the interest, I felt much better and
didn't think about it again during the basketball season. Jo-Anne came to every game and
was always urging everybody else to come. She was as proud of me and the way I played as
I was proud of her and the way she looked in my sweater.

Grace was never so talkative and gay and popular as Jo-Anne, and I was always glad to hear
anyone pay Grace compliments. One day I heard Harley Potters say, "You know, Grace
Hinton is a beautiful girl. Think, she comes five miles to school and five miles home and
makes the highest grades in her class. There's something to a girl that would go through all
kinds of weather and do that."

I thought so, too. All through the winters when snow was on the ground and the winds blew
harshly on the mountain, she and I had walked back and forth to school. I had walked in
front and had broken the path through new-fallen snow. I had done that even when we went
7
to Plum Grove. We had walked through the rain and sleet together, and I couldn't remember
a day that she had not been good-natured. And I knew she had the durability and the
toughness of a storm-battered mountain oak. I didn't believe there was another girl in
Gadsen High School who could have done what Grace had done. And now to the Gadsen
boys and girls she was as pretty as a cove sapling. Yet I was sure I would never go back to
Grace. I'd always love Jo-Anne.

I only hoped that Roy Tomlinson appreciated Grace. I got a little tired of looking at his
sweater so often. Sometimes I wondered if I were jealous of him for making his third
stripe. But I couldn't have been, because I had four--and I had the most popular and
beautiful girl in the world. I decided I was tired of looking at it just because Grace never wore
anything else. I could hardly remember what Grace's clothes had looked like before.

When the bitter cold of January and February passed away, the melted snow ran down the
gorge in deep foaming waters, and I grew as melancholy as the song of the swollen little
winter river. Jo-Anne didn't know what was worrying me. Sometimes I wished she would ask,
but she never did. And that hurt me, too. If I didn't always smile at something she said, she
acted impatient with me. I'm sure I could not have told her about the note due in April, if she
had asked. But I looked for some kind of sympathy, because I thought I needed it and that
she loved me so much she would want to cheer me up. Instead, she kept asking me if I didn't
love her and if I did, why didn't I show it the way all the other boys did?
So I tried my best to cheer up. I didn't want to lose her, but I did have to figure out some way
to make money. I couldn't hunt now even if I did change my mind about killing
animals. Spring was on the way, and the animal pelts weren't good now.

One day Grace said to me, "What is the matter with you, Shan?" That was in late March as
we were watching the blue melted snow waters roll down the gorge where the white
dogwood sprays bent down to touch them. "I know something is bothering you."
"No, it isn't," I said. "I'm all right."
"If I can ever help you, I'll be glad to," she said. "Just let me know."
Her words made me feel better. I didn't want to tell her that I'd never been in debt before
and that a debt worried me to death. So I didn't say anything.

After the snow had melted from the mountain, I grew more despondent. Neither the sight of
Jo-Anne nor of Grace could cheer me. My grades went down, and some of the teachers asked
8
me what had happened to me. Everyone around me seemed happy, for April had come
again, and Jo-Anne seemed gayer than ever. Several of my teammates had their eyes on her
constantly; that only made me more despondent.
Grace coaxed me again one day to tell her what was wrong. "You always used to like spring
on the mountain," she said.
Then I decided I had to tell somebody my trouble, and she was the one to tell. "Grace," I
confessed, "I need money--ten dollars!"
"I don't have it," Grace said quietly. "If I did, you could have it. But that doesn't help. Maybe
I'll think of a way--"
I didn't think she would; but it made me feel better--just to have someone to share my worry.
On April eighteenth something happened to me that the whole school witnessed. We were
gathering at the auditorium for assembly period when Jo-Anne handed my sweater back to
me!
"I'm tired of it," she said, without the pretty smile on her lips. "And I'm tired of your
ways. You go around with your lower lip drooping as if the world had turned upside down and
smashed you. You never have anything to say. You've just become a bore, and everybody
knows it." She left me standing there with my sweater in my hand.

I was stunned. I couldn't speak. My face grew hot, and I felt everybody looking at me. When I
looked up, I saw Grace and Roy standing at the other side of the auditorium. They were
looking in my direction, and Grace suddenly started to talk to Roy, neither looking my way
again. I don't know how I got through the rest of that day at school.
After school I didn't wait for Grace. I hurried out and away from them all. But just as I started
up the mountain, Grace overtook me.
"I've thought of something, Shan. I know a way to get ten dollars."
I looked at her without speaking. I was still stunned.
"You know there's a big price at Dave Darby's store for roots and hides and poultry," she
said, speaking quickly. "I noticed that sign yesterday. And you know the coves above the
gorges are filled with ginseng, yellowroot, and May-apple root."
She waited for me to speak. I walked in silence for a while, thinking it was all too late now--
thinking I'd sell my sweater for whatever I could get for it.
"When is the note due?" she asked.
"Ten more days," I said. "April twenty-eighth."
"We'll have it by then," she said.

9
We, I thought. I looked at her and thought of Jo-Anne. Jo-Anne was pretty and gay and
popular, but her face had changed in my mind. I began to wonder if all that gaiety was real--
and what she had meant by "love." I was too puzzled to think anything out clearly.

Grace and I walked along silently. We didn't stop at the gorge because Grace had suggested
that we go into the cove. I just followed along and started to hunt ginseng after Grace had
started.
I never saw anyone before who could find three-prong and four prong ginseng like Grace. We
found patches of yellowroot and May apple. We filled our lunch pails with these precious
roots; and I took them home, strung them the way Mom used to string apples and
shuckbeans to dry, and hung them on nails driven on the wall above our stove.

We stopped every evening that week and gathered wild roots, and I brought them home to
dry. On April twenty-seventh, one day before my note was due--and I had already received
the notice--I took a small paper sack of dried May-apple roots, a small sack of yellow-root,
and more than a pound of the precious ginseng roots to Dave Darby. When he was through
weighing the roots, he did some figuring. Then he said, "It all comes to sixteen dollars if you
trade it out in the store."
"How much if I take cash?"
"Fifteen dollars," he said.
"Let me have the cash."

I went straight to the Citizens' State Bank and paid off my note. And I had five dollars for
Grace. I never felt better, not even when I was so much in love with Jo-Anne.
As I walked home with Grace, I told her how much the roots had brought. "This is not your
half," I said as I gave her the five dollars; "But we'll dig more until we get your share. I paid
my note."
"Wonderful," she said, smiling at me.

I looked at Grace. Whatever had been wrong with me, I wondered. Why hadn't I seen before
that she had beauty such as Jo-Anne could never have? Grace was as beautiful as our
mountain was in April, prettier than a blossom of wild phlox or a mountain daisy. She was as
solid as the jutting cliffs, I thought, and as durable as the mountain oaks.
"Now ask me if there is anything more I want from you," I said as I took her arm to help her
up the mountain toward the gorge and the wild-root coves.
10
"What is it?" she asked quickly.
"Take off Roy Tomlinson's sweater," I said. "I'm awfully tired of looking at it."
"But what will I do without it?" she said. "It keeps me warm."
I didn't answer. I started to pull off mine. Then I felt her hand on my arm. "No, Shan," she
said."Keep it a while. I couldn't wear it yet."

We stood silently on the mountain path and looked at each other. "I couldn't wear it yet," she
had said. And that was all the promise I needed. I knew how fine she was; and I was proud
that she would not discard Roy Tomlinson's sweater as Jo-Anne had done, without a word to
him first.
I didn't know what she was thinking as we started down the path, and she didn't know what I
was thinking. I didn't ask her; she didn't ask me. But I was thinking that our high-school days
would soon be over and I could build a house, if she'd want it there, right on Seaton Ridge on
the path that leads from her family's house to mine.

11