494 
American Agriculturist, June 9,1923 
The Brown Mouse — By Herbert Quick 
* 
C ON BONNER, who came to see the opening, voiced the sentiments of the older 
people when he condemned the school as disorderly. To be sure, there were 
more pupils enrolled than had ever entered on a first day in the whole history of' 
the school, and it was hard to accommodate them all. But the directory’s criticism 
was leveled against the free-and-easy air of the children. Most of them had 
brought seed corn and a good-sized corn show was on view. There was much argu¬ 
ment as to the merits of the various entries. Instead of a language lesson from 
the text-book, Jim had given them an exercise based on an examination of the 
ears of corn. 
The number exercises of the little chaps had been worked out with ears and 
kernels of corn. One class in arithmetic calculated the percentage of inferior 
kernels at tip and butt to the full-sized grains in the middle of the ear. 
All the time, Jim Irwin, awkward and uncouth, clad in his none-too-good Sunday 
suit and trying to hide the fact that he was pretty badly frightened, passed 
among them, getting them enrolled, setting them to work, wasting much time and 
laboring like a heavyladen barge in a seaway. 
“That feller’ll never do,” said Bon¬ 
ner to Bronson next day. “Looks like 
a tramp in the schoolroom.” 
“Wearin’ his best, I guess,” said 
Bronson. 
“Half the kids call him ‘Jim,’” said 
Bonner. 
“That’s all right with me,” replied 
Bronson. 
“The room was as noisy as a caucus,” 
was Bonner’s next indictment, “and the 
flure was all over corn like a hog-pin.” 
“Oh! I don’t suppose he can get away 
with it,” assented Bronson disgustedly, 
“but that boy of mine is as tickled as a 
colt with the whole thing. Says he’s 
goin’ reg’lar this winter.” 
“That’s because Jim don’t keep no 
order,” said Bonner. “He lets Newt 
do as he dam pleases.” 
“First time he’s ever pleased to do 
anything but deviltry,” protested Bron¬ 
son. “Oh, I suppose Jim’ll fall down, 
and we’ll have to fire him—but I wish 
we could git a good teacher that would 
git hold of Newt the way he seems to!” 
CHAPTER V 
THE PROMOTION OF JENNIE 
I F Jennie Woodruff was the cause of 
Jim Irwin’s sudden irruption into 
the educational field by her scoffing 
“Humph!” at the idea of a farm-hand’s 
ever being able to marry, she also gave 
him the opportunity to knock down the 
driver of the big motor-car, and per¬ 
ceptibly elevate himself in the opinion 
of the neighborhood. 
The fat man who had said “Cut it 
out” to his driver, was Mr. Charles 
Dilly, a business man in the village at 
the extreme opposite corner of the 
county. His choice of the Woodruff 
District as a place for motoring had a 
secret explanation. He came to see 
Colonel Woodruff and Jennie. Mr. Dilly 
was a candidate for county treasurer, 
and wished to be nominated at the 
approaching county convention. In his 
part of the county lived the county 
superintendent—a candidate for re¬ 
nomination. He was just a plain garden 
or field county superintendent of 
schools, no better and no worse than 
the general political run of them, but 
he had local pride enlisted in his cause, 
and was a good politician. 
Mr. Dilly was in the Woodruff Dis¬ 
trict to build a backfire. He expected 
to use Jennie Woodruff to light it 
withal. That is, while denying that he 
wished to make any deal or trade— 
every candidate in every convention al¬ 
ways says that—he wished to say to 
Miss Woodruff and her father, that if 
Miss Woodruff would permit her name 
to be used for the office of county super¬ 
intendent of schools, a goodly group of 
delegates would be glad to reciprocate 
any favors Mr. Charles J. Dilly might 
receive in the way of votes for county 
treasurer with ballots for Miss Jennie 
Woodruff for superintendent of schools. 
Mr. Dilly never inquired as to Miss 
Woodruff’s abilities as an educator. 
That would have been eccentric. Miss 
Woodruff never asked herself if she 
knew anything about rural education 
which especially fitted her for the task; 
for was she not a popular and success¬ 
ful teacher—and was not that enough? 
Mr. Dilly merely asked himself if Miss 
Woodruff’s name could command 
strength enough to eliminate the em¬ 
barrassing candidate in his part of the 
county and leave the field to himself. 
Miss Woodruff asked herself whether 
the work would not give her a pleas¬ 
anter life than did teaching, a better 
salary, and more chances to settle her¬ 
self in life. So are the officials chosen 
who supervise and control the educa¬ 
tion of the farm children of America. 
This secret mission to effect a politi¬ 
cal trade accounted for Mr. Dilly’s de¬ 
sire that his driver should “cut out” 
the controversy with Newton Bronson, 
and the personal encounter with Jim 
Irwin—and it may account for Jim’s 
easy victory in his first and only physi¬ 
cal encounter. An office seeker could 
scarcely afford to let his friend or em¬ 
ployee lick a member of a farmers’ road 
gang. It certainly explains the fact 
that when Jim Irwin started home from 
putting out his team the day after his 
first call on the Simms family, Jennie 
was waiting at the gate to be con¬ 
gratulated on her nomination. 
“I congratulate you,” said Jim. 
“Thanks,” said Jennie, extending her 
hand. 
“I hope you’re elected,” Jim went on, 
holding the hand; “but there’s no doubt 
of that.” 
“They say not,” replied Jennie; “but 
father says I must go about and let the 
people see me. He believes in working 
just as if we didn’t have a big majority 
for the ticket.” 
“A woman has an advantage of a 
man in such a contest,” said Jim; “she 
can work just as hard as he can, and 
at the same time profit by the fact 
that it’s supposed she can’t.” 
“I need all the advantage I possess,” 
said Jennie, “and all the votes. Say a 
word for me when on your pastoral 
rounds.” 
“All right,” said Jim, “what shall I 
say you’ll do for the schools?” 
“Why,” said Jennie, rather perplexed, 
“I’ll be fair in my examinations of 
teachers, try to keep the unfit teachers 
out of the schools, visit schools as often 
as I can, and—why, what does any 
good superintendent do?” 
“I never heard of a good county 
superintendent,” said Jim. 
“Never heard of one—why, Jim Ir¬ 
win!” 
“T DON’T believe there is any such 
J. thing,” persisted Jim, “and if you do 
no more than you say, you’ll be off the 
same piece as the rest. Your system 
won’t give us any better schools than 
we have—of the old sort—and we need 
a new kind.” 
“Oh, Jim, Jim! Dreaming as of 
yore! Why can’t you be practical! 
What do you mean by a new kind of 
rural school?” 
“A ti’uly-rural rural school,” said 
Jim. 
“I can’t pronounce it,” smiled Jennie, 
“to say nothing of understanding it. 
What would your tralalooral rural 
school do?” 
“It would be correlated with rural 
life,” said Jim. 
“How?” 
“It would get education out of the 
things the farmers and farmers’ wives 
are interested in as a part of their 
lives.” 
“What, for instance?” 
“Dairying, for instance, in this dis¬ 
trict; and soil management; and corn¬ 
growing; and farm manual training for 
boys; and sewing, cooking and house¬ 
keeping for the girls—and caring for 
babies!” 
Jennie looked serious, after smother¬ 
ing a laugh. , 
“Jim,” said she, “you’re going to have . 
a hard enough time to succeed in the 
Woodruff school, if you confine yourself 
to methods that have been tested, and 
found good.” 
“But the old methods,” urged Jim, 
“have been tested and found bad. Shall 
I keep to them?” 
“They have made the American 
people what they are,” said .Jennie. 
“Don’t be unpatriotic, Jim.” 
“They have educated our farm chil¬ 
dren for the cities,” said Jim. “This 
county is losing population—and it’s 
the best county in the world.” 
“Pessimism never wins,” said Jen¬ 
nie. 
“Neither does blindness,” answered 
Jim. “It is losing the farms their dwell¬ 
ers, and swelling the cities with a pro¬ 
letariat.” 
For some time, now, Jim had ceased 
to hold Jennie’s^hand; and their sweet¬ 
heart days had never seemed farther 
away. 
“Jim,” said Jennie, “I may be elected 
to a position in which I shall be obliged 
to pass on your acts as teacher—in 
an official way, I mean. I hope they will 
be justifiable.” 
Jim smiled his slowest and saddest 
smile. 
“If they’re not. I’ll not ask you to 
condone them,” said he. “But first, 
they must be justifiable to me, Jennie.” 
“Good night,” said Jennie curtly, and 
left him. 
J ENNIE, I am obliged to admit, gave 
scant attention to the new career 
upon which her old sweetheart seemed 
to be entering. She was in politics, and 
was playing the game as became the 
daughter of a local politician. The 
reader must not by this term get the 
impression that Colonel Woodruff was 
a man of the grafting tricky sort of 
which we are prone to think when the 
term is used. The West has been ruled 
by just such men as he, and the West 
has done rather well, all things con¬ 
sidered. Colonel Albert Woodruff went 
south with the army as a corporal in 
1861, and came back a lieutenant. His 
title of colonel was conferred by ap¬ 
pointment as a member of the staff of 
the governor, long years ago, when he 
was county auditor. He was not a rich 
man, but a well-to-do farmer, whose 
wife did her own work much of the 
time, not because the colonel could not 
afford to hire “help,” but for the rea¬ 
son that “hired girls” were hard to get. 
The colonel, having seen the triumph 
of his side in the great war, was in¬ 
clined to think that all reform had 
ceased, and was a political standpatter 
—a very honest and^incere one. More¬ 
over, he was influential enough so that 
when Mr. Cummins or Mr. Dolliver 
came into the county on political er- 
I’ands, Colonel Woodruff, had always 
been called into conference. He was of 
the old New England type, believed 
very much in heredity, very much in the 
theory that whatever is is right, in so 
far as it has secured money or power. 
He believed in education, provided it 
did not unsettle things. He had a good 
deal of Latin and some Greek, and lived 
on a farm rather than in a fine house 
in the county seat because of his lack 
of financial ability. As a matter of 
fact, he had been too strictly scrupulous 
to do the things—such as dealing in 
lands belonging to eastern speculators 
who were not advised as to their values, 
speculating in county warrants, buying 
up tax titles with county money, and 
the like—by which his fellow-politicians 
who held office in the early years of the 
county had founded their fortunes. A 
very respectable honest, American tory 
was the colonel, fond of his political 
sway, and rather soured by the fact 
that it was passing from him. 
Such being her family history, Jen¬ 
nie was something of a politician her¬ 
self. She was in no way surprised 
when approached by party managers 
on the subject of accepting the nomina¬ 
tion for county superintendent of 
schools. Colonel Woodruff could de¬ 
liver some delegates to his daughter, 
though he rather shied at the proposal 
at first, but on thinking it over, warmed' 
somewhat to the notion of having a 
Woodruff on the county pay-roll once 
more. 
CHAPTER VI 
JIM TALKS THE WEATHER COLD 
“^OING to the rally, James?” 
Vjr Jim yt. rned for a long evening 
in his attic den with his cheap litera¬ 
ture. But as the district schoolmaster 
he felt some sense of duty as to ex¬ 
hibiting an interest in public affairs. 
“I guess I’ll have to go, mother,” he 
replied regretfully. “I want to see Mr. 
Woodruff about borrowing his Babcock 
milk tester, and I’ll go that way. I 
guess I’ll go on to the meeting.” 
_His mother urged his overcoat upon 
him in vain—for Jim’s overcoat was 
distinctly a bad one, while his best suit, 
now worn every day as a concession to 
his scholastic position, still looked pass¬ 
ably well after several weeks of school¬ 
room duty. It seemed more logical to 
assume that the weather was milder 
than it really was, on that sharp Octo¬ 
ber evening, and appear at his best, 
albeit rather aware of the cold. Jennie 
was at home, and he was likely to see 
and be seen of her. 
“You can borrow that tester,” said 
the colonel, “and the cows that go with 
it, if you can use ’em. They ain’t earn¬ 
ing their keep here. But how does the 
milk tester fit into the curriculum of 
the school? A decoration?” 
“We want to make a few tests of the 
cows in the neighborhood,” answered 
Jim. “Just another of my fool no¬ 
tions.” 
“All right,” said the colonel. “Take 
it along. Going to the speakin’?” 
“Certainly, he’s going,” said Jennie, 
entering. “This is my meeting, Jim.” 
“Surely, I’m going,” assented Jim. 
“And I think I’ll run along.” 
“I wish we had room for you in the 
car,” said the colonel. “But I’ni going 
around by Bronson’s to pick up the 
speaker, and I’ll have a chuck-up load.” 
“Not so much of a load as you 
think,” said Jennie. “I’m going with 
Jim. The walk will do me good.” 
A ny candidate warms to her voting 
.population just before election; but 
Jennie had a special kindness for Jim. 
He was no longer a farm-hand. The 
fact that he was coming to be a center 
of disturbance in the district, and that 
she quite failed to understand how his 
eccentric behavior could be harmonized 
with those principles of teaching which 
she had irnbibed at the State normal 
school in itself lifted him nearer to 
equality with her. A public nuisance 
is really more respectable than a non¬ 
entity. 
She gave Jim a thrill as she passed 
through the gate that he opened for 
her. White moonlight on her white 
furs suggested purity, exaltation, the 
essence of womanhood—things far finer 
in the woman of twenty-seven than the 
glamour thrown over him by the school¬ 
girl of sixteen. 
Jim gave her no thrill; for he looked 
gaunt and angular in his skimpy, ready¬ 
made suit, too short in legs and sleeves, 
and too thin for the season. Yet, as 
WHAT HAS HAPPENED? 
Jennie Woodruff said 
“Humph!” Jim Irwin de¬ 
cided that he would be something 
besides her father’s field hand 
after all. He had often expressed 
his opinion of what a rural school 
should be, and through a fiuke is 
elected to the vacant position of 
school-teacher and must make 
good his theories. 
Among Jim’s loyal adherents is 
17-year old Newton Bronson, 
whose truancy and pool-playing 
are making him a local problem. 
Jim fights for Newton in a road¬ 
side argument and as a result Mr. 
Bronson nominates him for the 
position. 
they walked along, Jim grew upon her. 
He strode on with immense strides, 
made slow to accommodate her shorter 
steps, and embarrassing her by his en¬ 
tire absence of effort to keep step. For 
all that, he lifted his face to the stars, 
and he kept silence, save for certain 
fragments of his thoughts, in dropping 
which he assumed that she, like him¬ 
self, was filled with the grandeur of 
the sparkling sky, its vast moon, plow¬ 
ing like an astronomical liner through 
the cloudlets of a wool-pack. 
They stopped and looked. Jim laid 
his hard hands on the shoulders of her 
white fur collarette. 
“What’s the use of political meet- 
(Continued on page 496) 
