In the penultimate paragraph of the first part, as the Potters' short-lived honeymoon aboard the train comes to an end, Crane uses a simile that foreshadows the story's dramatic ending.
“They have to take water here,” said Potter, from a constricted throat and in mournful cadence, as one announcing death.
In the simile, Crane compares Potter's tone of voice to that of someone sharing tragic news. The description gives the impression that Potter speaks the sentence with an anguished croak. The sound of his voice underlines the character's reluctance to embrace his new domestic life, share the big news of his marriage with his community, and introduce his friends to the bride. Potter is happy to be married, but nevertheless frightened by the big change he finds himself on the precipice of.
The simile also serves to foreshadow the ending, in which Potter comes very close to dying at the hands of Scratchy Wilson. Although the reader does not expect that something so dramatic will come of his return to Yellow Sky, Potter's deep-seated disinclination to get off the train and face the town foreshadows that he will face some sort of challenge. In the story's three subsequent parts, Crane drags out the impending confrontation between Scratchy Wilson and Potter, which gradually becomes inevitable in the eyes of the reader. When Scratchy Wilson's violent rage later seizes on Potter as its target, Potter's anxiety about disembarking the train acquires a new angle of significance.
In the story's first part, the town of Yellow Sky becomes a motif linked through metaphor and simile to notions of daylight, discovery, truth, confession, and uncovered secrets. Towards the end of the first part, the narrator describes Potter's reflections on the implications of leaving San Antonio—and its cover of darkness—and accepting the inevitable exposure involved in returning to Yellow Sky.
At San Antonio he was like a man hidden in the dark. A knife to sever any friendly duty, any form, was easy to his hand in that remote city. But the hour of Yellow Sky—the hour of daylight—was approaching.
In the first sentence of this passage, Crane compares Potter to a man hidden in the dark. This darkness has a somewhat positive connotation here, as it allows Potter the anonymity to act on his own terms. However, the darkness also speaks to Potter's guilt, as he feels bad for the ease of betraying his friends when he is free from their observation. By saying that a knife was "to sever any friendly duty, any form, was easy to his hand," the narrator suggests that Potter becomes colder and less mindful of his friends in the city than when he is in Yellow Sky.
In the last sentence of the passage, the narrator refers to Potter's arrival in Yellow Sky as "the hour of daylight." This daylight stands in contrast to the diction used to describe the urban environment of San Antonio, which offered anonymity and cover. Potter's return to the small and familiar Yellow Sky makes him feel like a spotlight is aimed at his actions and intentions. In this place, he feels as though his decisions are the business of everyone. Of course, long before this metaphor has been developed to this extent, the name "Yellow Sky" indicates the image of a brightly lit sky all on its own. This immediate imagery and connotation are likely what made Crane choose the name for his town. The figurative connection between Yellow Sky, daylight, and openness reinforces the dichotomy of the rough, immoral city and innocent, virtuous countryside.
The layers of meaning acquired by Yellow Sky through this motif also add a dimension to the story's title. Not only is the bride coming to Yellow Sky, she is entering exposure and revelation. This exposure can take many possible forms. It is possible to analyze it as Potter exposing her to the scrutiny of his community. Another interpretation is that coming to Yellow Sky will allow her to obtain new forms of autonomy and self-understanding.
Halfway through the story's first part, as the train edges closer to Yellow Sky, it dawns on Potter that returning home with his bride will require telling the town that he is now married. A simile captures Potter's concern over the town's reaction to this news.
As a matter of truth, Jack Potter was beginning to find the shadow of a deed weigh upon him like a leaden slab. He, the town marshal of Yellow Sky, a man known, liked, and feared in his corner, a prominent person, had gone to San Antonio to meet the girl he believed he loved, and there, after the usual prayers, had actually induced her to marry him, without consulting Yellow Sky for any part of the transaction.
In this rather complex simile, the "shadow of a deed" is itself a figurative way of describing Potter's secret marriage. This shadow, an intangible yet visible presence, weighs upon him as though it had a mass. Thus, Crane describes Potter's guilt through multiple layers of figurative language: it is a shadow, but it also weighs on him like a slab. Within this, the diction of "slab" is notable, as it has the appearance of a tombstone.
With the progression of the passage, the narrator reveals that Potter conceives of his guilt through yet another layer: he sees himself as a criminal and the secret marriage as a crime, and the town as an "innocent and unsuspecting" victim. These intertwined layers of metaphor and simile highlight Potter's fear and guilt.
In the first part, the narrator takes subtle yet frequent note of other people's glances at the married couple. This focus on people's scrutiny, surveying, and gazes becomes a motif that highlights their obvious inexperience and non-belonging.
While the glances Potter devotes to other passengers are "furtive and shy," the people around them scrutinize them carelessly and at times with deliberate impudence. The passengers at times exchange glances to make fun of the couple in an unspoken way, and one passenger even winks at himself "in one of the numerous mirrors" when the bride behaves with clumsy coquetry. When the couple enters the dining car, the waiters survey them "with the interest, and also the equanimity, of men who had been forewarned."
The porter intentionally uses his gaze to prove his experience and knowledge relative to them.
This individual at times surveyed them from afar with an amused and superior grin. [...] He subtly used all the manners of the most unconquerable kind of snobbery. He oppressed them; but of this oppression they had small knowledge, and they speedily forgot that infrequently a number of travelers covered them with stares of derisive enjoyment.
The porter uses his gaze and body language to make fun of the pair. This is in part to prove to himself that he is better than them, but also to show anyone watching that he is in the know. Nevertheless, the couple seems immune to the silent taunting they are exposed to. Even if this is partly because they are unaware of the social codes that they are breaking, it is certainly also because of their shared happiness. Recently married and excited to begin their shared life, they pay more attention to each other's eyes than those of the surrounding strangers.
Not everyone punishes them for their inexperience, however. When they eat dinner, their waiter feels "pleasure in steering them through their meal." The narrator compares this waiter to a "fatherly pilot," whose countenance is "radiant with benevolence." Just before leaving the unfamiliar setting for good at the end of the first part, their inexperience is punctuated one last time by a simile.
Potter fumbled out a coin and gave it to the porter, as he had seen others do. It was a heavy and muscle-bound business, as that of a man shoeing his first horse.
This simile reinforces the short story's Western flair. Just as Potter arrives in Yellow Sky, the archetypical western town on the edge of the frontier, his awkwardness is compared to that of a farrier handling a horse for the first time. His heavy, muscle-bound, fumbling movements can be visualized in contrast with the graceful movements of the passengers and employees on the train. Whereas the narrator pays close attention to the bodies of Potter and the bride, other people's bodies are for the most part absent; their movements are so swift and familiar that they go unnoticed, save for their disparaging gazes. This juxtaposition further emphasizes the relative awkwardness of Potter and the bride throughout the first part.
In the first part, Crane uses imagery and a simile to describe the train's environment to the reader, as Potter himself explains various features of the train to the bride.
He pointed out to her the dazzling fittings of the coach; and in truth her eyes opened wider as she contemplated the sea-green figured velvet, the shining brass, silver, and glass, the wood that gleamed as darkly brilliant as the surface of a pool of oil.
The image of the bride's eyes opening wider and wider as she gazes around at the decorations of the train car highlights her unfamiliarity with luxury. Her eyes seem to reflect the brilliance of the train car. It is worth noting that the narrator does not describe the soft, polished, and gleaming surfaces directly, but rather describes them by way of her gaze. Moreover, the reader does not merely see these surfaces through her gaze, but through her gaze as it is directed by her husband. The narrator makes note of people's gazes and glances repeatedly throughout the story's first part, which offers valuable insight into how people understand each other and their surroundings.
Each of the specific aspects of the interior that the narrator notes—the velvet, the brass, the silver, the glass, and the wood—gives this passage a sensory quality. Most of this tactile and visual imagery connotes luxury, which both Potter and the bride reveal their unfamiliarity with through their unabashed attention to it. Although most of these textures are hard, they are described using a fluid, viscous diction. Most notable is the simile in which the wood is compared to a pool of oil, which indicates that it is clean and polished. The apparently liquid nature of these surfaces goes hand in hand with the plains of Texas that they see through the window, which the narrator describes in the opening passage as "pouring eastward."
In the first part of the short story, the narrator describes the appearance and body language of "a newly married pair" aboard a Great Pullman train. Using a simile, Crane compares the man to a waiting customer in a barbers shop.
From time to time he looked down respectfully at his attire. He sat with a hand on each knee, like a man waiting in a barbers shop. The glances he devoted to other passengers were furtive and shy.
This early in the narrative, the narrator has yet to refer to this character by name. Still just "the man" of the married couple, Jack Potter remains general and anonymous. The reader receives a description of his visual appearance and body language, but his identity is mostly shrouded in vagueness.
While forming an idea of the man's identity, the reader gathers an important clue: he is not at ease in the train car. His body language, captured in part by the simile, reveals that this environment is far from familiar to him. Besides consciously fidgeting with his hands and his clothes, he looks down at "his attire" repeatedly and looks around at the other passengers furtively and shyly. He may be content with his new clothes and the opportunity to take the train, but he does not blend in.
The simile in this passage encapsulates his unfamiliarity. Sitting "like a man waiting in a barbers shop," Potter gives an impression of awkwardness and incapacity. When someone is waiting their turn at a barbers shop or hair salon, they have in certain respects given up their agency, as their time and body are in the hands of a stranger. In any given barbers shop, a barber will be aware—in charge, even—of the reigning social codes, while a customer is forced to observe the space for cues on how to speak and behave. In the same way, Potter is not familiar with the social codes in the Pullman, and is left to watch the other passengers to glean how he should act. Due to his new clothing and stilted body language, his awkwardness quashes any attempt he might make at blending in. As the story progresses, the reader will learn that the character's awkwardness is because he belongs to the rural west while the train and its passengers belong to the urban, developed east.
The still, silent atmosphere that Crane develops in the beginning of the second part is interrupted when Scratchy Wilson emerges as a character in the story's action. The first paragraphs of the third part, which feature his arrival, are rich with figurative language. The many instances of imagery, metaphor, and simile in these paragraphs enhance the explosive effect of Scratchy Wilson's appearance.
The man’s face flamed in a rage begot of whiskey. His eyes, rolling, and yet keen for ambush, hunted the still doorways and windows. He walked with the creeping movement of the midnight cat. As it occurred to him, he roared menacing information.
In the initial sentences of this paragraph, Scratchy Wilson is both indirectly and directly compared to an animal. The first sentence employs two layers of metaphor: the man's face is flaming, a flame that has been spawned by whiskey. Before his movement is explicitly likened to that of "the midnight cat," the descriptions of his eyes and body language already lead the reader to visualize him as a prowling, hungry animal. Moreover, he isn't simply shouting, but roaring.
In the rest of the paragraph, the animal comparison recedes into the background as the narrator's gaze focuses on his dextrous hands and pulsating neck.
The long revolvers in his hands were as easy as straws; they were moved with an electric swiftness. The little fingers of each hand played sometimes in a musician’s way. Plain from the low collar of the shirt, the cords of his neck straightened and sank, straightened and sank, as passion moved him.
It has already been established that Scratchy Wilson moves and shouts like a wild animal. Here, the narrator emphasizes that his animalistic behavior does not preclude litheness or agility. The simile, claiming that he holds the revolvers in each of his hands as if they were straws, shows that Scratchy Wilson has experience and skill with guns. In fact, the narrator specifies that his skill is "electric," describing his little fingers playing them as though they were musical instruments. Crane extends this instrument comparison to Scratchy Wilson's neck. Metaphorically referring to his veins as chords, he describes them pulsating through the fabric of his shirt as his anger flares up.
The atmosphere produced by the imagery, metaphors, and similes in this paragraph contrasts sharply with the atmosphere aboard the fancy train in the first part or in the quiet town in the second part. All of these comparisons and details come together to develop Scratchy Wilson as a frightening figure, possessing the gross motor skills and voice of a beast as well as the fine motor skills of a talented musician.
