The Breakaway

The Breakaway By Harold Thorpe Fall had come, and with it the be- ginning of the year's activities for the M. I. A. Brother Jones, newly ap- pointed president of the association in A ward, was gravely concerned over the almost hopeless prospects for an M Men's class. There had never been one in A ward before. Mu- tual officers of preceding years had tried zealously to win these young men over to the cause, but without avail. "It's no use," they had all said when they finally gave up the task as hopeless, "you can't get the young fellows in our ward into Mutual. They're all good boys and they mean well; but they won't join us, and that is all there is to it." Brother Jones had never been identified with the M. I. A. before, and wondered if he could succeed where all the others had failed. His first meeting with his officers and teachers was a memorable one. The stake superintendent of Mutuals was there, and made an eloquent plea. "Brother Jones, we must have an M Men's class in your ward. It is the only ward in the stake without one. You surely have enough young fellows here to form an organization. You must get a class started!" Brother Jones' counselors both shook their heads doubtfully as the stake superintendent concluded. "It's no use," they declared positively, "we've tried everything here, and we just can't do anything with our young men. They are all well meaning fel- lows, but they are too full of battle and blood and high life. They have their own amusements, and their own notions, and they are as stubborn as nules. They won't come to Mutual." But this did not satisfy the stake officer, who renewed his plea for an M Men's class. "Brother Jones, we must have an M Men's class here. We expect you to build up this depart- ment. Let your two counselors take care of the rest of the work if neces- sary. Make this part of your work succeed if you have to do it all your- self. We shall depend upon you to do it." "I'll do my best," was the ward president's only comment. During the next few days he visited every young man in the ward between the ages of seventeen and twenty-one. At every home he urged the parents to co- operate with him in getting their boys started. But rough and dry and stony seemed the ground in which he was trying to plant the good seed. The parents were more than willing to cooperate, but how? "No one," confessed one father, "can convert our grown boys to Mutual work. An M Men's class has been tried here so many times and failed that our boys are soured with it. They are now so set against it that it is a waste of time even to mention it to them." The attitude of the boys themselves seemed to bear this statement out, for only two in the whole ward would promise definitely to join the M. I. A. These two only half promised, and then only because their parents insisted upon it; — for one was the son of the bishop and the other was the son of the president of the Y. L. M. I. A. In spite of these discouragements, Brother Jones was hopeful that he might finally win the young men over. But when the next M. I. A. meeting was held a total of two reported for the M Men's class — the son of the bishop, and the son of the president of the Y. L. M. I. A. Brother Jones' heart sank as he faced them in the opening of the first class period, for he could read in their eyes and in the expressions on their faces the deep resentment they both felt at being almost compelled by their

228 IMPROVEMENT ERA parents to come to meeting. So hostile and disgruntled did they seem that Brother Jones hardly knew how to begin with them. "Well, boys," he began finally, "you don't seem any too glad to be here." "We're not," said the bishop's son. "What shall we do about it?" con- tinued Brother Jones, who now felt that he was facing the crucial situation of the whole problem. "Dismiss this class and forget all about it," said the Y. L. M. I. A. president's son bluntly. "You two boys have stomachs, I take it?" asked Brother Jones. "Not for dry sermons," replied both boys together. "How about oysters?" asked Broth- er Jones. "Are you trying to tell us a fish story?" asked the bishop's son, sus- piciously. "Wait till I get back and I'll tell you definitely," was the answer. Going directly to the Gleaner Girls' class, he asked permission to talk to them a moment. Quickly he came to the point. "My dear young sisters, everyone says the young men in our ward are perfect mules when it comes to joining us. I think they are the finest mules in the world, and I want them to belong to our organization. Will you help me get them in?" "Yes," chorused the girls, laughing ^heartily at the reference to the mules. "Boys and mules are just alike for one thing," he continued, "the way to a mule's heart, if he isn't too stubborn to have one, is through his stomach. The way to a boy's heart is through his stomach, too. Now, then, if I get the young men organized into an M Men's class, will you give them a nice party later on, and cook them an oyster supper?" "We surely will," the girls prom- ised. "I have it!" exclaimed one mis- chievous maid, with merrily dancing eyes. "Tell all the young men in our ward I'll give them each a slice of bread and molasses if they will come to Mutual. Poor fellows, they do look hungry at times. "And I'll cook them some hot dogs," giggled another. "And I'll ask mother to give them each a drink of buttermilk every Tues- day, to make them feel religious," vol- unteered a third girl, while a fourth young lady proposed that, as a special inducement to the young men, each one should be given a lollypop every time he came to Mutual. Soon the girls were all convulsed with laughter as each one tried to outdo the rest in proposing some ridiculous scheme for getting the young men into the or- ganization. Brother Jones was so enthusiastic over the attitude of the Gleaner Girls that he could hardly wait for the mer- riment to subside so he could continue. "We will now be brief and sober!" he exclaimed suddenly, in mock anger. "I'll be brief, and you be sober!" But they didn't become sober until they had indulged in another outburst of merriment. "Speaking seriously now," he con- tinued, when he could be heard again, "you will really entertain the M Men's class at an oyster supper after I get them organized?" "Yes, we will," they answered in one voice. "Well, brethren," said he, after he had returned to his forlorn hope of two rebellious and resentful young men, "I am now ready to tell you a fish story about bread and molasses and buttermilk and stewed oysters and lollypops and things." "Stewed oysters and lollypops?" cried the impatient son of the bishop. "What next?" "The Gleaner Girls will entertain the M Men's class at an oyster supper just as soon as you are organized," said the Mutual president. "Will they?" asked the bishop's boy, incredulously, "No one ever

THE BREAKAWAY 223 thought of doing anything like that for us other years." "Hurry up and get organized, and your oysters will soon be stewing," said Brother Jones. The rest of the period was devoted to a round-table discussion of the year's activities for the M Men's class. The two young men were all eager- ness now to learn every detail, and to get the class organized. By the time the class period was over they were in high spirits, and both promised to bring several friends to the next meeting. A week later half a dozen young men were present. And what a lively and interesting time they had plan- ning the organization of their class and election of officers a week later! It was near the close of the period when one of the new members suddenly asked. "Brother Jones, when do we eat those oysters?" "How many young men does it take to make a good party?" asked Brother Jones. "About twelve or fifteen." "Bring out twelve or fifteen to our next meeting, and the oysters will soon be ready." Eleven young men turned out at the next meeting, and they went about the business of electing officers and perfect- ing their class organization with a zest that thrilled Brother Jones im- mensely. At his suggestion the newly elected president of the M Men's class assumed the responsibility of assign- ing topics for discussion at the next class. Brother Jones feared that the very mention of topics might dampen their ardor, but the boys could smell their oysters now, and accepted topics with an alacrity and enthusiasm that went to his heart. A week later sixteen handsome, bright-eyed, oyster-hungry young men came to class. By skillful maneuver- ing at the very outset of the discussion, Brother Jones brought the boys' own life experiences into play in their dis- cussion of the topics. And what an Sandy, Utah enthusiastic time they had of it then! There wasn't sufficient time for each member to say all that he was just itching to say about his own expe- riences and hopes and ambitions. That timid, bored, oppressive, miserable feeling which blights so many religious classes of young men and young wom- en was utterly lacking. Everyone felt at ease. The very classroom atmosphere was so strongly one of congeniality and good-will that it seemed to invite the young men to come again. Just before the period ended the bishop entered quietly and sat down, and all the boys grew silent. The bishop's son then rose and began speaking. "Brother Jones, we have a surprise for you. We're going to have that oyster supper at our home next Friday night. The girls are too slow. They never do tumble to anything. I never saw a girl yet who could tumble to anything on time. We've been hungry for oysters for weeks, and there are none in sight yet. So we are going to cook the oysters ourselves and invite the Gleaner Girls to be our guests. "A week from Friday we're going to take the Gleaner Girls to the can- yon. Father and mother are going along as chaperones, and we want you and Mrs. Jones to come along with us. We young fellows know we've been mules all right, but we've made our breakaway from the old pastures now, and we're going to eat grass and sing 'hee-haw' in the newer and better pas- tures from this time on. "To be right frank, we young fel- lows have had so satisfying a taste of what M Men's work really means that we are heartily ashamed of our- selves for not joining before. We're going to see to it that the M Men's class in A ward isn't an empty cellar any longer. "When we found out how inter- ested everyone else was in us, and how willing they all were to help us, we couldn't hold back any longer. We just had to join the good old M. I. A."