The Brown Mouse Part 28

"Oh, Colonel!" The voice of Angie Talcott rose from away back near the kitchen. "Can Jennie keep on bein' county superintendent, now she's married?"

A great guffaw of laughter reduced poor Angie to tears; and Jennie had to go over and comfort her. It was all right for her to ask that, and they ought not to laugh at Angie, so there! Now, you're all right, and let's talk about the new schoolhouse, and so forth. Jennie brought the smiles back to Angle's face, just in time to hear Jim tell the people amid louder cheers that he had been asked to go into the rural-school extension work in two states, and had been offered a fine salary in either place, but that he wasn't even considering these offers. And about that time, the children began to get sleepy and cross and naughty, and the women set in motion the agencies which moved the crowd homeward.

Before a bright wood fire--which they really didn't need, but how else was Jim's mother to show off the little fireplace?--sat Jim and Jennie. They had been together for a week now--this being their home-coming--and had only begun to get really happy.

"Isn't it fine to have the fireplace?" said Jennie.

"Yes, but we can't really afford to burn a fire in it--in Iowa," said Jim.

"Fuel's too everlastingly scarce. If we use it much, the f.a.gots and deadwood on our 'glebe-land' won't last long."

"If you should take that Oklahoma position," said Jennie, "we could afford to have open wood fires all the time."

"It's warmer in Oklahoma," said Jim, "and wood's more plentiful.

Yes"--contemplatively--"we could, dear."

"It would be nice, wouldn't it?" said Jennie.

"All right," said Jim briskly, "get me my writing materials, and we'll accept. It's still open."

Jennie sat looking into the fire oblivious of the suggestion. She was smiling. Jim moved uneasily, and rose.

"Well," he said, "I believe I can better guess where mother would put those writing materials than you could, after all. I'll hunt them up."

As he pa.s.sed, Jennie took him by the hand and pulled him down on the arm of her chair.

"Jim," she said, "don't be mean to me! You know you wouldn't do such a wicked, wicked thing at this time as to leave the people here."

"All right," said Jim, "whatever you say is the law."

When Jennie spoke again things had taken place which caused her voice to emanate from Jim's shirt-front.

"Did you hear," said she, "what Angie Talcott asked?"

"M'h'm," said Jim.

"Well," said Jennie, "now that I'm married can I go on being county superintendent?"

There was a long silence.

"Would you like to?" asked Jim.

"Kind of," said Jennie; "if I knew enough about things to do anything worth while; but I'm afraid that by rising to my full height I shall always just fail to be able to see over anything."

"You've done more for the schools of the county," said Jim, "in the last year than any other county superintendent has ever done."

"And we shall need the money so like--so like the d.i.c.kens," said Jennie.

"Oh, not so badly," laughed Jim, "except for the first year. I'll have this little farm paying as much as some quarter-sections when we get squared about. Why, we can make a living on this school farm, Jennie,--or I'm not fit to be the head of the school."

There was another silence, during which Jennie took down her hair, and wound it around Jim's neck.

"It will settle itself soon one of these days anyhow," said he at last.

"There's enough to do for both of us right here."

"But they won't pay me," she protested.

"They don't pay the ministers' wives," said Jim, "and yet, the ministers with the right sort of wives are always the best paid. I guess you'll be in the bill, Jennie."

Jim walked to the open window and looked out over the still landscape. The untidy grounds appealed to him--there would be lessons in their improvement for both the children and the older people. It was all good.

Down in the little meadow grew the dreaming trees, their round crowns rising as from a sea not quite to the level of the bungalow, their thrifty leaves glistening in the moonlight. Across the pretty bridge lay the silent little campus with its twentieth-century temple facing its chief priest. It was all good, without and within. He went across the hall to bid his mother good night. She clung to him convulsively, and they had their own five minutes which arranged matters for these two silent natures on the new basis forever. Jennie was in white before the mantel when he returned, smiling at the inscription thereon.

"Why didn't you put it in Latin?" she inquired. "It would have had so much more distinction."

"I wanted it to have meaning instead," said Jim. "And besides, n.o.body who was at hand was quite sure how to turn the Latin phrase. Are you?"

Jennie leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and studied it.

"I believe I could," said she, "without any pony. But after all, I like it better as it is. I like everything, Jim--everything!"

"LET US CEASE THINKING SO MUCH OF AGRICULTURAL EDUCATION, AND DEVOTE OURSELVES TO EDUCATIONAL AGRICULTURE. SO WILL THE NATION BE MADE STRONG."

THE END