Appearance
Excerpt
Excerpt from Where There's a Will, by Mary Roberts Rinehart
"It's a difficult situation, my girl," he said. "Lots of people think
it's simply a matter of filling a glass with water and handing it over
the railing. Why, I tell you a barkeeper's a high-priced man mostly, and
his job's a snap to this. I'd like to know how a barkeeper would make
out if his customers came back only once a year and he had to remember
whether they wanted their drinks cold or hot or 'chill off'. And another
thing: if a chap comes in with a tale of woe, does the barkeeper have
to ask him what he's doing for it, and listen while he tells how much
weight he lost in a blanket sweat? No, sir; he pushes him a bottle and
lets it go at that."
Father passed away the following winter. He'd been a little bit
delirious, and his last words were: "Yes, sir; hot, with a pinch of
salt, sir?" Poor father! The spring had been his career, you may
say, and I like to think that perhaps even now he is sitting by some
everlasting spring measuring out water with a golden goblet instead of
the old tin dipper. I said that to Mr. Sam once, and he said he felt
quite sure that I was right, and that where father was the water would
be appreciated. He had heard of father.
Well, for the first year or so I nearly went crazy. Then I found things
were coming my way. I've got the kind of mind that never forgets a name
or face and can combine them properly, which isn't common. And when
folks came back I could call them at once. It would do your heart good
to see some politician, coming up to rest his stomach from the free
bar in the state house at the capital, enter the spring-house where
everybody is playing cards and drinking water and not caring a rap
whether he's the man that cleans the windows or the secretary of the
navy. If he's been there before, in sixty seconds I have his name on my
tongue and a glass of water in his hand, and have asked him about
the rheumatism in his right knee and how the children are. And in ten
minutes he's sitting in a bridge game and trotting to the spring to have
his glass refilled during his dummy hand, as if he'd grown up in
the place. The old doctor used to say my memory was an asset to the
sanatorium.
Explanation
Detailed Explanation of the Excerpt from Where There’s a Will by Mary Roberts Rinehart
Context of the Source
Mary Roberts Rinehart (1876–1958) was a prolific American writer known for her mystery novels, humor, and keen observations of human nature. Where There’s a Will (1917) is a semi-autobiographical novel that blends comedy, pathos, and social commentary, drawing from Rinehart’s own experiences running a health resort in Pennsylvania. The novel follows the misadventures of the narrator (a young woman) and her family as they manage a sanatorium where people come to "take the waters" for their health.
The excerpt focuses on the narrator’s father, a former bartender who now dispenses water at a mineral spring, and the narrator herself, who inherits his role after his death. The passage highlights the absurdity of human behavior, the importance of memory and personal connection in service industries, and the quiet dignity of labor—even in seemingly mundane jobs.
Themes in the Excerpt
The Dignity of Labor and the Art of Service
- The father compares bartending to his current job at the spring, arguing that his work is far more demanding. While a bartender serves drinks with little personal investment, the father must remember individual preferences (hot, cold, "chill off") and engage with customers’ personal struggles (weight loss, ailments).
- The narrator later adopts this philosophy, using her exceptional memory to make guests feel welcomed and valued. Her ability to recall names, ailments, and family details transforms a simple glass of water into a personalized experience.
- Significance: Rinehart elevates seemingly menial work by showing how skill, memory, and empathy turn it into an art. The father’s pride in his job—and the narrator’s continuation of his legacy—challenges classist assumptions about "unskilled" labor.
Memory as a Tool of Connection and Power
- The narrator’s "asset" is her photographic memory, which she uses to manipulate social dynamics. By recalling a politician’s rheumatism or his children’s names, she disarms his ego, making him forget his own importance.
- This memory isn’t just practical—it’s a form of social leveling. The politician, used to deference, is reduced to just another guest fetching water, playing cards, and chatting casually.
- Significance: Memory here is a democratizing force. It strips away pretensions and creates genuine (if temporary) equality among guests.
Death, Legacy, and the Afterlife
- The father’s delirious last words—"Yes, sir; hot, with a pinch of salt, sir?"—are both tragic and darkly humorous. His life’s work was so ingrained that it defined his final moments.
- The narrator’s vision of him in the afterlife, measuring water with a "golden goblet," is a tender, almost mythic tribute. It suggests that his labor was meaningful, even sacred.
- Significance: Rinehart blends realism and sentimentality, acknowledging the father’s humble life while imagining a celestial reward. This reflects the novel’s balance between satire and warmth.
The Absurdity of Human Behavior
- The excerpt pokes fun at the hypochondria and vanity of the sanatorium’s guests. Politicians and officials, who wield power in the "real world," become just another face in the crowd, obsessed with minor ailments.
- The image of a high-ranking official "trotting to the spring" during a card game underscores how status is temporary and context-dependent.
- Significance: Rinehart’s humor exposes the performative nature of social hierarchy, showing how easily it can be dismantled by something as simple as a shared glass of water.
Literary Devices
Analogy & Comparison
- The father’s extended comparison between bartending and his job at the spring structures the first paragraph. He argues that his work is harder because it requires long-term memory and emotional labor ("listen while he tells how much weight he lost in a blanket sweat").
- Effect: This device highlights the unseen complexity of service work, forcing the reader to reconsider what constitutes "skill."
Irony & Satire
- The politician’s deflation is a prime example of satire. A man accustomed to deference is reduced to fetching his own water and discussing his knee pain.
- The father’s last words are situational irony—his life’s work was so consuming that it followed him to the grave.
- Effect: Rinehart uses irony to critique social pretensions and the arbitrary nature of status.
Imagery & Symbolism
- The golden goblet in the afterlife contrasts with the father’s tin dipper, symbolizing an upgrade from his earthly labors to a divine reward.
- The spring itself is a symbol of renewal and equality—everyone, regardless of rank, comes to it for the same reason.
- Effect: These images elevate the mundane into something almost spiritual, reinforcing the theme of dignity in labor.
Colloquial Diction & Humor
- Phrases like "pushes him a bottle and lets it go at that" and "trotting to the spring" give the passage a conversational, folksy tone.
- The dark humor in the father’s death ("Poor father!") softens the pathos, a hallmark of Rinehart’s style.
- Effect: The informal language makes the narrative accessible and engaging, while the humor prevents it from becoming overly sentimental.
Foreshadowing
- The father’s complaint about remembering preferences foreshadows the narrator’s own skill in the second half of the excerpt.
- Effect: This creates a sense of inheritance, showing how the daughter carries on (and improves upon) her father’s legacy.
Significance of the Passage
A Tribute to the "Invisible" Worker
- The excerpt champions the unsung laborer, showing how jobs often dismissed as "simple" (like serving water) require memory, empathy, and adaptability.
- In an era of rapid industrialization (early 20th century), Rinehart’s focus on personalized service is a subtle critique of impersonal, mechanized labor.
Social Commentary on Class and Power
- The sanatorium becomes a microcosm of society, where titles and wealth mean little. The narrator’s memory equalizes guests, stripping away their external identities.
- This reflects Rinehart’s progressive views—she often wrote about women and working-class people navigating systems of power.
The Blending of Comedy and Pathos
- The father’s death is both funny and sad, a balance Rinehart masters. His last words are absurd, yet the narrator’s vision of him in heaven is deeply moving.
- This duality makes the passage emotionally resonant without being maudlin.
The Power of Personal Connection
- The narrator’s ability to remember details isn’t just a party trick—it’s a form of care. In a world where people are often reduced to their roles (politician, secretary, patient), she sees them as individuals.
- This theme is timeless, resonating in modern discussions about customer service, healthcare, and hospitality.
Conclusion: Why This Excerpt Matters
This passage from Where There’s a Will is a masterclass in character-driven storytelling. Through humor, irony, and sharp observation, Rinehart:
- Elevates the ordinary (a water server’s job) into something heroic.
- Exposes the absurdity of social hierarchies by showing how easily they collapse.
- Celebrates memory and empathy as tools of connection.
- Balances laughter and tears, making the reader care about a man whose life was defined by a tin dipper.
In just a few paragraphs, Rinehart captures the dignity of work, the fleeting nature of power, and the enduring human need to be seen. It’s a small moment with big heart—and that’s why it lingers.
Questions
Question 1
The father’s comparison between bartending and his work at the spring primarily serves to:
A. Criticise the laziness of bartenders by implying their work lacks the emotional depth required in his own role.
B. Highlight the unacknowledged complexity of service work that demands memory, personalisation, and emotional engagement.
C. Suggest that his job is inherently more valuable to society than that of a bartender due to its health-related function.
D. Illustrate the economic disparity between the two professions, positioning his own as underpaid despite its difficulty.
E. Emphasise the absurdity of human expectations, particularly the hypocrisy of patrons who demand excessive attention.
Question 2
The narrator’s description of her father’s last words—"Yes, sir; hot, with a pinch of salt, sir?"—functions most effectively as:
A. A poignant demonstration of how identity and vocation can become inextricably linked, even in death.
B. A critique of the father’s inability to separate his professional life from his personal existence.
C. An example of dark humour intended to undermine the gravity of the father’s passing.
D. A literal illustration of the father’s delirium, devoid of deeper symbolic significance.
E. A narrative device to foreshadow the narrator’s eventual assumption of his role at the spring.
Question 3
The narrator’s interaction with the politician in the spring-house is primarily structured to reveal:
A. The politician’s hypocrisy in seeking treatment while abusing his position of power.
B. The superficiality of human connections, where personal details are exploited for social manipulation.
C. The narrator’s resentment toward authority figures, masked by performative hospitality.
D. The inherent equality of all guests at the sanatorium, regardless of their external status.
E. How memory and personalised attention can temporarily dismantle hierarchical power structures.
Question 4
The image of the father in the afterlife "measuring out water with a golden goblet" is most effectively interpreted as:
A. A satirical jab at religious conceptions of heaven, reducing the divine to a mundane task.
B. A literal depiction of the narrator’s belief in an afterlife where labor continues unchanged.
C. An indication of the narrator’s guilt over her father’s humble life, compensated by an imagined upgrade.
D. A tender, mythic elevation of the father’s earthly labor, framing it as dignified and eternally valued.
E. A critique of the sanatorium’s commercialisation, where even the afterlife is monetised through "golden" service.
Question 5
The passage’s tone is best described as a blend of:
A. Cynical detachment and clinical observation, with no emotional investment in the characters.
B. Uncritical nostalgia, idealising the past without acknowledging its hardships.
C. Warm humour and understated pathos, balancing irony with genuine affection for the subjects.
D. Moralistic judgement, condemning both the patrons’ vanity and the narrator’s complicity.
E. Satirical exaggeration, caricaturising all characters to underscore societal flaws.
Solutions and Explanations
1) Correct answer: B
Why B is most correct: The father’s comparison is not merely about difficulty but about the unseen emotional and cognitive labor required in his role—remembering preferences, engaging with personal struggles, and providing a tailored experience. This aligns with the passage’s broader theme of elevating "invisible" work (e.g., the narrator’s memory as an "asset"). The comparison serves to challenge assumptions about "simple" service jobs, which is the core of option B.
Why the distractors are less supported:
- A: The father doesn’t criticise bartenders as lazy; he acknowledges their skill ("high-priced man") but argues his job demands more. The focus isn’t on their inadequacy but on his role’s hidden complexity.
- C: The passage doesn’t claim his job is inherently more valuable to society—just more demanding in specific ways. The value judgement isn’t textually grounded.
- D: Economic disparity isn’t the focus. The father doesn’t mention pay, only the nature of the work.
- E: While the passage critiques human expectations (e.g., the politician’s vanity), the father’s comparison is not primarily about absurdity but about the depth of his labor.
2) Correct answer: A
Why A is most correct: The father’s last words are a haunting encapsulation of his identity. His life’s work was so defining that it persisted even in delirium. This moment is poignant, not critical or humorous—it underscores how vocation shapes selfhood, a theme central to the passage (e.g., the narrator inheriting his role). Option A captures this inextricable link between the father and his labor.
Why the distractors are less supported:
- B: The passage doesn’t frame this as a critique of the father’s inability to separate work from self. The tone is affectionate, not judgemental.
- C: While dark humour exists (e.g., "Poor father!"), the last words aren’t intended to undermine the gravity of his death—they deeply it, blending pathos and irony.
- D: The words are symbolically rich (identity, legacy) and not merely a literal illustration of delirium.
- E: The foreshadowing is indirect. The primary function is characterisation and theme, not plot setup.
3) Correct answer: E
Why E is most correct: The narrator’s memory disarms the politician’s authority by reducing him to a recipient of personalised care—just like any other guest. This temporarily collapses the power structure: his title becomes irrelevant as he fetches water and plays cards. The passage emphasises how memory and attention (tools of service) can neutralise hierarchy, which is the crux of E.
Why the distractors are less supported:
- A: The politician isn’t portrayed as hypocritical (e.g., abusing power). He’s a symbol of status, not corruption.
- B: The connections aren’t superficial—the narrator’s memory fosters genuine, if fleeting, equality. The passage doesn’t suggest exploitation.
- C: There’s no evidence of resentment. The narrator’s tone is proud and amused, not bitter.
- D: While the sanatorium equalises guests in that moment, the mechanism (memory dismantling hierarchy) is more precise than a broad claim about "inherent equality."
4) Correct answer: D
Why D is most correct: The golden goblet transforms the father’s humble, earthly labor into something celestial and dignified. This is mythic elevation—a tender reframing of his life’s work as eternally meaningful. The image blends realism (his tin dipper) with sentimentality (golden reward), which aligns with Rinehart’s style of honoring the ordinary.
Why the distractors are less supported:
- A: The passage doesn’t satire religion. The afterlife vision is sincere and affectionate, not mocking.
- B: The narrator doesn’t believe labor continues unchanged—the goblet is an upgrade, symbolising value, not sameness.
- C: There’s no guilt implied. The narrator’s tone is warm and celebratory, not compensatory.
- E: The image isn’t a critique of commercialisation. The "golden goblet" is personal and reverent, not a comment on monetisation.
5) Correct answer: C
Why C is most correct: The passage balances ironic humour (e.g., the politician’s deflation, the father’s last words) with genuine affection (e.g., the golden goblet, the narrator’s pride in her memory). This blend of warmth and wit is classic Rinehart—never cynical, never saccharine, but emotionally layered.
Why the distractors are less supported:
- A: The narrator is deeply invested in the characters (e.g., her fondness for her father, her pride in her work). The tone isn’t detached.
- B: The passage acknowledges hardships (e.g., the father’s delirium, the narrator’s early struggle). It’s not uncritical nostalgia.
- D: There’s no moralistic judgement. The humour is observational, not condemnatory.
- E: While satire exists, the characters aren’t caricatured. The father and narrator are nuanced and sympathetic figures.