His Mother’s Honesty

His Mother's Honesty BY ANNIE D. PALMER Andrew Poulsen was taking his first high school work in the R Academy, six miles from home. It was in fact almost work of any kind. His mother had emigrated his first school from Denmark when he was four years old and his sister Maren was six. They had been very poor. Andrew could remember when they had eaten nothing but bread for weeks at a time, and when Mrs. Barrett had given him cast off clothing that should have been given to the scare-crow in the field. And because the dear mother had been so much concerned with getting food and clothes for her children, their education had been very much neglected. But now Andrew was a man. He had built a comfortable little home for his mother. He must find a place for himself in the busy world of men. He must prepare to be a credit to the place when he did find it, so he was in school. He had been permitted to enter as a special and to select his work here and there as his interests should dictate. This morning the commercial arithmetic examination was to be given. How the young man dreaded that examination ! He was — tempted to stay away not to try it at all. He had missed so much that should have preceded commercial arithmetic, and this work had been so hard. As he came within a block of the academy he met Professor E , the arithmetic teacher. "Why, good morning, Poulsen," greeted the big-hearted professor; "I was just thinking about you." "Thinking about me, Professor E ——i ;? You must have been thinking how dull I am in the arithmetic class. I shall fail in the examination this morning, I know I shall." "Well, now, we'll see as to that later. One never knows till he has tried." "One comes so near to knowing that he can make a very good guess at it, however." "Maybe so, my boy, maybe so. But just now I want to tell you a bit of news that is to be a secret between us for a few days. You know Mr. Karl C. Brown?" "The manager of the Valley Department Store?" "Manager and sole proprietor. He is a rather eccentric old gentleman, honest as the day, and one of the most agreeable old

1052 IMPROVEMENT ERA men I .ever knew. What I particularly want to tell you is that he is looking- for a young man to take charge of the shoe department. He will pay a fair salary at once and is really hoping to find a man who will grow and eventually become a partner in the business." "A lucky hit for some young fellow," ventured the student. "Very lucky, indeed and you stand as good a show as any ; one else the world to get it. in I have recommerjded to Mr. Brown four of the students, of whom you are one." "I'll never stand any chance. I am a stranger in town, and besides — "Listen, my boy. Mr. Brown will decide by the examination papers this morning which of the four he wants. I would like to see you get in with him, so I put you on your guard." "Thank you very much, Professor E case — but it is a hopeless , " a moment's pause and then he added, "hopeless this time, but I'll win out yet." The first problem of the examination was rather easy, and Andrew felt reasonably sure of his solution to the second. From there he read on down to the last one. Not a ray of light woul 1 come. He dropped his head in his hands to think. What was that about potatoes — "bought at 35 cents per bushel and sold in lots at 33 1-3 cents, 37^2 cents, and 42 cents — what was the per cent of gain?" Slowly the young man was carried back in memory to the home of thirteen years ago. There was his mother on the low, shaky cot from which she had not risen for nearly two months. There was his sister with bare feet and tattered clothing. There was the well-dressed lady who came and offered to give Maren fifty cents a week if she would go and work for her. He tried to arouse himself to the problem of per cent, but it was useless. The dreaming persisted. Now his mother sits up a part of the day and be hangs the warm quilts in the sunshine and stirs the dusty hay in the mattress. Then he brings the flour and the yeast he has made under her direction and she ; mixes the dough with the pan on a chair beside her. Then she must lie on the cot again for she is very tired. So several more days pass and then the dear mother begins to walk. Now she pats her lad gently on the head and sends him into the field to glean, for the wheat in the sack is gone, and the six fine hens are hungry. Ah, he is hungry, too, but there is bread, for Maren lias been working two weeks and got her pay in flour. So he dips the bread in the clear, cool water from the brook, and eats till he is satisfied. Then he puts a piece of the bread in the broad pocket of his trowsers and trudges off to the field with his sack. At night he comes home with the heads of wheat, enough to feed the chickens for half a week. Thus day after day he

HIS MOTHER'S HONESTY 1053 toils — with only the bread to eat — with the appetite of a growing boy to appease. "When potatoes are bought at 35 cents per bushel and sold — ah, yes, that was the problem 1 — yet again the dream. It is Saturday night. Wearily he drags along toward home with the sack, but quickens his pace when he is nearly there, because of the joy he is to give his mother. She opens the door and welcomes him gladly. "Mother, you can never guess what I have for you in my sack," he says proudly. "No. What have you in it, my boy?" "See, mother. I have six potatoes for dinner tomorrow. "Where did you get them?" The mother speaks slowly, sadly, with emphasis that chills him on every word. Falteringly he replies, "Mother, there is a big field of them. I had only to pull up one vine on the last row — and these all came up with it." "Did you know it was wrong to take them?" The firmness of her voice leaves no room for doubt. "I know it now, mother! Oh, forgive me, mother dear! — — The field is so big and I am so hungry He clings to his ! mother sobbing. "Yes, Andrew, I do forgive you and the good Father in ; heaven will forgive you, too. But you must never, never do such a thing again. Remember, my boy, remember always, you and your mother can starve, but zue cannot steal!" Ah, his angel mother The young man lifted his head again to the arithmetic test on the blackboard. Just then a crumpled sheet of paper fell on the floor at his feet. He picked it up, at the same time glancing across the aisle whence it had come. His eyes met those of pretty Allie Brown, who was known to be the best student of the class. "Open it," she motioned with her lips as she gave him a friendly smile. He did so. There were the problems all worked out as Allie had solved and copied them. He looked at Professor E The professor sat with his . eyes riveted, stubbornly riveted, on a book. He seemed to be giving every possible opportunity for cheating. Did he really expect that Andrew would copy? Did he desire it? He had said, "I would like to see you get in with him, so I put you on your guard." On guard for what? For a chance to make good on somebody else's work? Surely — Again the puzzled student looked across the aisle and met the gaze of Allie Brown. "Copy." Her lips formed the word decisively while a frown

1054 LMPRI >VEMENT ERA of impatience clouded her brow. Did she, too, know about her father's plan? Did she want him to, get in her father's store by unfair means? She sat very still now with her eyes averted and Andrew studied her face in wonderment. Just then a stately old gentleman with kind, blue eyes and a flowing- white beard entered the class-room. He paused and Looked the boys over with a pleasant smile and then engaged in a low conversation with the teacher. "So Mr. Brown has come in to look for a bdy," thought Andrew. "Oh how I wish I could get the place! Business experience, good salary, promotion, perhaps a partnership. And Allie! What would I not give for a chance to do my best at trying to win her. She knows I would not cheat; so much depends upon this examination ! Well, let it depend ! So much of life depends upon honor that I'll take that first and foremost. It's the way of the world, largely, to take every advantage one can take and not get found out, but I'll have none of it. My dear old mother is right. We can starve but we cannot cheat or steal." Hastily the determined youth folded up the paper on which he had written his name and correctly solved the first and second of the test problems. With quiet dignity he tucked the crumpled sheet down into his trowsers pocket, carried his certain failure to the teacher's desk and left the room. The next day Professor E announced to the class that all but three had passed successfully. Andrew did not ask then nor later whether or not he was one of the three. He knew. But a joy was in his heart and a dogged determination to go on and on to final success. A week later Professor E met him in the hall and handed him a note. Andrew opened it and read Dear Mr. Poulsen: Will you come to my store and work in the shoe department? I can give you $75 per month to begin with and there is good opportunity for promotion and bigger pay. Yours, Karl C. Brown." took away the young man's breath. It fairly "I thought," he said in surprise, "it depended on the examination." "So it did, my boy, so it did," laughed the professor. Mr. Brown was a teacher once, before he got rich and a bit cranky and he holds the opinion that the biggest test of all for a business career is the test of unquestioned honesty. You failed, it is true, in the problems of arithmetic, but you came off triumphant in the bigger test. Weboth knew about Allie's crumpled paper." Andrew and Allie and her father are partners now, the first

HIS MOTHER'S HONESTY 1055 two for "time and all eternity." It took four years of the closest kind of business application to bring it all about. Allie did not know why her father asked her to find out which of the boys would cheat, and she didn't even guess that either of them would hesitate to copy if he could not solve the problems. But she is more than proud of the integrity of her husband, and loves to tell her friends about what she proudly terms, "His mother's honesty." PKOVO, UTAH. The Lure of the West BY IDA STEWART PEAY What is the great charm of the West? Much in literature today is about the land of the setting sun. Many there are who have enjoyed The Girl of the Golden West, The Squazvman, The Virginian, Told in the Hills, and the host of thrilling stories about the wild frontier. What is the lure, the spell, the fascination what stirs the blood and makes the heart-beats quicken when the tales of the West are told? It — passing strange steep and barren are the Rockies is silence, sage-brush, cover the. hills; plain and uncultured are the valley folk, their pleasures few and simple. No lovely manmade parks or cities, no architectural or monumental marvels, no congestions of business, no array of wealth no world-famed — ones abide there. Whence comes, then, this moving, quickening interest in the far West? Civilization has ever stolen westward — is it because the West is yet to be won, subdued and conquered ? Is it that Civilization's pursuit of the great, unknown outposts is like a lover's who, with pulse bounding, heart warm, wit keen, ambition noble, — and effort supreme, seeks to win the maid modest, evasive, allur- — ing pursuing he is all ardor, until she is his own, and then well, the "then" is known to both man and maid. Is the West being wooed? And when she is won, will she — be but why spoil a romance in the making by a cold dash of the philosophy of the inevitable ? Why define the "lure of the West" ! Just feel it, just know it, just let the breath come quick and the soul rise to the heights of the strength, purity and simplicity of the tales of life in the great, wild West. PROVO, UTAH