American Agriculturist, August 11,1923 
95 
Mouse — By Herbert Quick 
The Brown 
«v ou see,” said Jim to his audience, meanwhile pouring the lemonade, “the 
X centralizer creamery is uneconomic in several ways. It has to pay excessive 
transportation charges. It has to pay excessive commissions to its cream buyers. 
It has to accept cream without proper inspection, and mixes the good with the 
bad. It makes such long shipments that the cream spoils in transit and lowers 
the quality of the butter. It can’t make the best use of the buttermilk. All these 
losses and leaks the farmers have to stand. I can prove—and so can the six or 
eight pupils in the Woodruff school who have been working on the cream ques¬ 
tion this winter—that we could make at least six cents a pound on our butter if 
we had a cooperative creamery and all sent our cream to it.” 
“Well,” said Ezra Bronson, “let’s start one.” 
“I’ll go in,” said Olaf Hansen. 
“Me, too,” said Con Bonner. 
There was a general chorus of assent. Jim had convinced his audience. 
“He’s got the jury,” said Wilbur Smythe to Colonel Woodruff. 
“Yes,” said the colonel, “and right here is where he runs into danger. Can 
he handle the crowd when it’s with him?” 
“Well,” said Jim, “I think we ought 
to organize one, but I’ve another prop¬ 
osition first. Let’s get together and 
pool our cream. By that, I mean that 
we’ll all sell to the same creamery, 
and get the best we can out of the 
centralizers by the cooperative method. 
We can save two cents a pound in that 
way, and we’ll learn to cooperate. When 
we have found just how well we can 
hang together, we’ll be able to take 
up the cooperative creamery, with less 
danger of falling apart and failing.” 
“Who’ll handle the pool?” inquired 
Mr. Hansen. 
“We’ll handle it in the school,” an¬ 
swered Jim. 
“School’s about done,” objected Mr. 
Bronson. 
“Won’t the cream pool pretty near 
pay the expenses of running the school 
all summer?” asked Bonner. 
“We ought to run the school plant 
all the time,” said Jim. “It’s the only 
way to get full value out of the in¬ 
vestment. And we’ve corn-club work, 
pig-club work, poultry work and 
canning-club work which make it very 
desirable to keep in session with only 
a week’s vacation. If you’ll add the 
cream pool, it will make the school the 
hardest working crowd in the district 
and doing actual farm work, too.” 
“Well,” said Haakon Peterson, who 
had joined the group, “Ay tank we bet¬ 
ter have a meeting of the board and 
discuss it.” 
“Well, darn it,” said Columbus 
Brown, “I want in on this cream pool— 
and I live outside the district!” 
“We’ll let you in, Clumb,” said the 
colonel. 
“Sure!” said Pete. “We hain’t no 
more sense than to let any one in, 
Clumb. We ain’t proud!” 
“Well,” said Clumb, “if this feller 
is goin’ to do school work of this kind, 
I want in the district, too.” 
“'We’ll come to that one of these 
days,” said Jim. “The district is too 
small.” 
Wilbur Smythe’s car stopped at the 
distant gate and honked for him—a 
signal which broke up the party. 
Haakon Peterson passed the word to 
the colonel and Mr. Bronson for a 
board meeting the next evening. The 
picnic broke up. Jim walked across 
the fields to his home. He turned after 
crawling through a wire fence and 
looked longingly at Jennie as she was 
assisted into the car by the frock- 
coated lawyer. 
“You saw what he did?” said the 
colonel, as he and his daughter sat 
on the Woodruff veranda that evening. 
“Who taught him the supreme wisdom 
of holding back his troops when they 
grew too wild for attack?” 
“He may lose them,” said Jennie. 
“Not so,” said the colonel. “A 
Brown Mouse succeeds when he finds 
his environment. And I believe Jim 
has found his.” 
“Well,” said Jennie, “I wish his en¬ 
vironment would find him some clothes. 
It’s a shame the way he has to go 
looking. He’d be nice-appearing if he 
was dressed anyway.” 
“Would he?” queried the colonel. “I 
wonder, now! Well, Jennie, I think 
it’s up to you to act as a committee of 
one on Jim’s apparel.” 
CHAPTER XVII 
A TROUBLE SHOOTER 
A SUT>DEN July storm had drenched 
thA fields and filled the swales 
with^Hter. The cultivators left the 
coh^^Hs until the next day’s sun 
and a night of seepage might once 
more fit the black soil for tillage. 
A lithe young man with climbers on 
his legs walked up a telephone pole 
by the roadside to make some repairs 
to the wires, which had been whipped 
into a “cross” by the wind of the 
storm and the lashing of the limbs of 
the roadside trees. He had tied his 
horse to a post up the road, and was 
running out the trouble on the line, 
which was plentifully in evidence just 
then. The line repairer was cheer¬ 
fully profane, in the manner of his 
sort, glad by reason of the fire of 
summer in his veins, and incensed at 
the forces of nature which had brought 
him out through the mud to the Wood¬ 
ruff District to do these piffling jobs 
that any of the subscribers ought to 
have known how to do themselves, and 
none of which took more than a few 
minutes of his time when he reached 
the seat of the difficulty. 
Jim Irwin, his school out for the 
day, came along the muddy road with 
two of his pupils, a bare-legged little 
boy and a tall girl with flaxen hair— 
Bettina Hansen and her small brother 
Hans, who refused to answer to any 
name other than Hans Nilsen. His 
father’s name was Nils Hansen, and 
Hans a born conservative, being the 
son of Nils, regarded himself as right¬ 
fully a Nilsen, and disliked the “Hans 
Hansen” on the school register. 
H ANS strode through the pool of 
water which the shower had spread 
completely over the low turnpike a few 
rods from the,pole on which the trouble 
shooter was at work, and the elec¬ 
trician ceased his labors and rested 
himself on a cross-arm while he waited 
to see what the flaxen-haired girl would 
do when she came to it. 
Jim and Bettina stopped at the 
water’s edge. “Oh!” cried she, “I can’t 
get through!” The trouble shooter 
thought it best on the whole- to leave 
the matter in the hands of the lank 
schoolmaster. 
“I’ll carry you across,” said Jim, 
“I’m too heavy,” answered Bettina. 
“Nonsense!” said Jim, 
“She’s awful heavy,” piped Hans. 
“Better take off your shoes, anyhow!” 
Jim thought of the welfare of his 
only good trousers, and saw that Hans’ 
suggestion was good; but a mental pic¬ 
ture of himself with shoes in hand and 
bare legs restrained him. He took Bet¬ 
tina in his arms and went slowly 
across, walking rather farther with 
his blushing burden than was strictly 
necessary. Bettina was undoubtedly 
heavy; but she was also wonderfully 
pleasant to feel in arms which had 
never borne such a burden before; and 
her arms about his neck as he slopped 
through the pond were curiously 
thrilling. Her cheek brushed his as he 
set her upon her feet and felt, rather 
than thought, that if there had only 
been a good reason for it, Bettina 
would have willingly been carried much 
farther. 
“How strong you are!” she panted. 
“I’m awful heavy, ain’t I?” 
“Not very,” said Jim, with scholas¬ 
tic accuracy. “You’re just right. I 
—I mean, you’re simply well-nourished 
and wholesomely plump!” 
Bettina blushed still more rosily. 
“You’ve ruined your clothes,” said 
she. “Now you’ll have to come home 
with me and let me—see who’s there!” 
Jim looked up at the trouble shooter, 
and went over to the foot of the pole. 
The man walked down, striking his 
spurs deep into the wood for safety. 
“Hello!” said he. “School out?” 
“For the day,” said Jim. “Any im¬ 
portant work on the telephone line 
now?” 
“Just trouble-shooting,” was the an¬ 
swer. “I have to spend three hours 
hunting these troubles, to one in fix¬ 
ing ’em up.” 
“Do they take much technical skill?” 
asked Jim. 
“Mostly shakin’ out crosses, and 
puttin’ in new carbons in the ar¬ 
resters,” replied the trouble man. 
Any one ought to do any of ’em with 
five minutes’ instruction. But these 
farmers—they’d rather have me drive 
ten miles to take a hair-pin from 
across the binding-posts than to do it 
themselves. That’s the way they are!” 
“Will you be out here to-morrow?” 
queried the teacher. 
“Sure!” 
“I’d like to have you show my class 
in manual training something about the 
telephone,” said Jim. “The reason we 
can’t fix our own troubles, if they are 
as simple as you say, is because we 
don’t know how simple they are.” 
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Profes¬ 
sor,” said the trouble man. “I’ll bring 
a phone with me and give ’em a lecture. 
I don’t see how I can employ the com¬ 
pany’s time any better than in beating 
a little telephone sense into the heads 
of the community. Set the time, and 
I’ll be there with bells.” 
B ETTINA and her teacher walked on 
up the shady lane, feeling that they 
had a secret. They were very nearly 
on a parity as to the innocence of soul 
with which they held this secret, ex¬ 
cept that Bettina was much more 
single-minded toward it than Jim. To 
her he had been gradually attaining 
the status of a hero whose clasp of 
her in that iron-armed way was mys¬ 
teriously blissful—and beyond that her 
mind had not gone. To Jim, Bettina 
represented in a very sweet way the 
disturbing influences which had re¬ 
cently risen to the threshold of con¬ 
sciousness in his being, and which 
were concretely but not very hopefully 
embodied in Jennie Woodruff. 
Thus interested n each other, they 
turned the corner which took them out 
of sight of the lineman, and stopped at 
the shady avenue leading up to Nils 
Hansen’s farmstead. Little Hans Nil- 
sen had disappeared by the simple 
method of cutting across lots. Bettina 
lingered, standing close by Jim Irwin. 
“Won’t you come in and let me 
clean the mud off you,” she asked, “and 
give you some dry socks?” 
“Oh, no!” replied Jim. “It’s al¬ 
most as far to your house as it is 
home. Thank you, no.” 
“There’s a splash of mud on your 
face,” said Bettina. “Let me—” And 
with her little handkerchief she be¬ 
gan wiping off the mud. Jim stooped 
to permit the attention, but not much, 
for Bettina was of the mold of women 
of whom warriors are born. Their 
faces approached, and Jim recognized 
a crisis in the fact that Bettina’s 
mouth was presented for a kiss. Jim 
met the occasion like the gentleman he 
was. He did not leave her stung by re¬ 
jection; neither did he obey the impulse 
to respond to the invitation according 
to his man’s instinct; he took the rosy 
face between his palms and kissed her 
forehead—and left her in possession of 
her self-respect. v After that Bettina 
Hansen felt, somehow, that the world 
could not possibly contain another man 
like Jim Irwin—a conviction which she 
still cherishes when that respectful 
caress has been swept into the cloudy 
distance of a woman’s memories. - 
Pete, Colonel Woodruff’s hired man, 
was watering the horses at the trough 
when the trouble shooter reached the 
Woodruff telephone. County Superin¬ 
tendent Jennie was on the bench where 
once she had said “Humph!” to Jim 
Irwin?” 
“Anything wrong with your phone?” 
asked the trouble man of Pete. 
“Nah,” replied Pete. “It was on the 
blink till you done something down the 
road.” 
“Crossed up,” said the lineman. 
“These trees along here are fierce.” 
“I’d cut ’em all if they was mine,” 
said Pete, “but the colonel set ’em out, 
along about sixty-six, and I reckon 
they’ll have to go on a-growin’.” 
“Who’s your school-teacher?” asked 
the telephone man. ‘ 
The county superintendent pricked up 
her ears—being quite properly inter¬ 
ested in matters educational. 
“Feller name of Irwin,” said Pete. 
“Farmer, eh?” said the lineman in¬ 
terrogatively. “Well, he’s the first 
farmer I ever saw that recognized 
there’s education in the telephone busi¬ 
ness. I’m goin’ to teach a class in tele¬ 
phony at the schoolhouse to-morrow.” 
‘‘T^ON’T get swelled up,” said Pete. 
“He has everybody tell them 
young ones about everything—black¬ 
smith, cabinet-maker, pie-founder, 
cookie-cooker, dressmaker—even down 
to telephones.” 
“He must be some feller,” said the 
lineman. “And who’s his star pupil?” 
“Didn’t know he had one,” said Pete. 
“Why?” 
“Girl,” said the trouble shooter. 
“Goes to school from the farm where the 
Western Union brace is used at the 
road.” 
“Nils Hansen’s girl?” asked Pete. 
“Toppy little filly,” said the lineman, 
“with silver mane—looks like she’d 
pull a good load and step some.” 
“M’h’m,” grunted Pete. “Bettina 
Hansen. What about her?” 
Again the county superintendent, 
seated on the bench, pricked up her 
ears. 
“I never wanted to be a school¬ 
teacher as bad,” continued the shooter 
of trouble, “as I did when this farmer 
got to the low place in the road with 
the fair Bettina this afternoon when 
they was cornin’ home from school. The 
water was all over the road—” 
“Then I win a smoke from the road- 
master,” said Pete. “I bet him it would 
overflow.” 
“Well, if I was in the professor’s 
place, I’d be glad to pay the bet,” said 
the wordly lineman. “He carried her 
across the pond, and her a-clingin’ to 
his neck in a way to make your mouth 
water.” 
“I’d rather have a good cigar any 
ol’ time” said Pete. “Nothin’ but a 
yaller-haired kid—an’ a Dane at that. 
1 had a dame once up at Spirit Lake—” 
“Well, I must be drivin’ on,” said the 
lineman. “Got to get up a lecture for 
TO REMIND YOU OF WHAT 
HAS HAPPENED 
AT the Fourth of July picnic, 
County Superintendent Jennie 
Woodruff discovers that Jim Ir¬ 
win is rapidly becoming a power 
in the community. She has had 
to try him for incompetance, but 
the school children, taught by his 
strange new methods, have passed 
their test with flying colors. The 
school has also given an exhibit 
at the county fair which attracted 
much attention to Jim’s unusual 
work. Jennie is just beginning 
to appreciate her old sweetheart, 
but her father, Colonel Woodruff 
has long suspected Jim of being 
a “Brown Mouse.” 
Professor Irwin to-morrow—and maybe 
I’ll be able to meet that yaller-haired 
kid. So long!” 
The county superintendent recognized 
at once the educational importance of 
the matter. She made a run of ten 
miles to hear the trouble shooter’s lec¬ 
ture, and she saw the beginning of an 
arrangement under which the boys of 
the Woodruff school took the contract 
to look after easily-remedied line 
troubles on the basis which paid for a 
telephone for the school, and swelled 
slightly the fund which Jim was ac¬ 
cumulating for general purposes. 
She had no curiosity to which she 
would have confessed, about the rela¬ 
tions between Jim Irwin and his “star 
pupil,” that young Brunhilde—Bettina 
Hansen; but her official duty required 
her to observe the attitude of pupils to 
teachers. Clearly, Jim was looked upon 
by the girls, large and small, as a pos¬ 
session of theirs. They competed for 
the task of keeping'his desk in order, 
and of dusting and tidying up the 
(Continued on page 99) 
