As a Man Sows

“Well, little pal, tomorrow night is school meeting,” John Durant remarked to his wife one Sunday evening as they sat on the front steps, after chores were done, and watched the stars pop out of their blue blankets. “Who do you think will be the new director?”

“If the people of the district know what they are doing they will re.elect you, of course,” his wife, Helen, replied. “You are the best man for the job.”

“Oh yes, undoubtedly, according to your idea,” John teasingly replied, “But perhaps the others do not agree with you.”

“They very evidently do not,” he continued to himself as he strolled toward the barn to turn out the horses for the night. “He thought I did not catch on. If they want to put some one else in my place, it does not matter to me in the least, they do not need to try to make such a secret of it. If the people want me enough to re.elect me it is all right, if not, all right; I am not going around using any means of persuasion as those other fellows are doing. And they think I do not know what they are up to.”

“Of course those folks over east have something up their sleeves,” Helen commented to herself as he watched the moon sail in and out among the fleecy clouds. “That was very evident when Twiste was over here this afternoon. He has been electioneering for Jerry and thinks we do not know it. Oh, well, there is no use worrying John about it now. He really deserves to be re.elected; but sometimes that is something different again already, as some of my neighbors would say.”

About the same time that evening another member of the school board, the treasurer, Tom Twiste, and his wife were sitting on their front porch talking things over, when a car stopped in the drive. A throaty masculine voice called: “Hello Tom, busy?”

“No, can’t say that I am, Terry, though I always reckon that watching the stars is kind of interesting after a hard day’s work,” was the laconic reply.

“What you been doing on Sunday that is such hard work?” asked the caller, Jerry Strumm, who lived on the other side of the section. “Now our friend, John, always goes to church on Sunday, he might think you have done wrong.”

Now this was rather a long speech for Jerry Strumm who usually let the other fellow do the talking.

“Reckon you ought to know as much as anybody,” Tom answered, “I call it tiring to go gallivanting all over the country to see those people we mentioned the other night. There is quite a bunch of them after all, who depend on you for road work. And the way you got them all to vote for you for road boss, you sure were not stingy with the beer that evening. Reckon everybody had a wallapaloozer of a time. Well, as I was saying, after seeing all of them, I stopped in a minute to see if John suspects anything. It sure is easy to put something over on that guy,” Tom continued with a chuckle, “He is far too believing for this neighborhood.”

“What are you two talking about, I should like to know,” demanded Mrs. Twiste.

Has Tom not told you ma’am, how we are going to carry this school election?” Strumm asked. “If they vote for me they get work on the road, if not, they don’t. Is that plain?”

“As plain as the nose on your mean old face. If Tom is a party to a scheme like that,”--she choked, not feeling pricks of conscience over her spouse’s conduct, but jealousy because he had gone this far with any plans without consulting her.

“There, now, my dear, calm yourself, “Tom soothed. “It really is not so bad. You see, Jerry helped me get in last year, so I reckon I ought to help him this year. These people all need the work, they could never buy permanents for their wives and smokes and drinks for themselves without it, to say nothing of food for the children. Jerry can be a good director if he wants to. Then, next year, maybe we can put Harry or Fred in Bob’s place, and the three of us can get Mary in as teacher. It would be close to home and right handy for her.”

“Yes, that is a good idea,” Mrs. Twiste agreed, seeing the advantage this arrangement would give her daughter. “But what if Mary should be married by that time?”

Even Jerry Strumm had his doubts as to whether the said Mary would really qualify as a desirable teacher; but then, what difference did it make, just so the gang all stuck together and helped each other. Of course, she would be living in the district so she would not board at his place and pay his wife a dollar a day board; but a fellow had to sacrifice something.

“How many did you see today, Tom?” Jerry asked.

“Well, let’s see, I went first to Granddad’s. Did not suppose it would do any good to talk to him, because he does not have any family to keep. He said he would think it over and let me know, but would not promise anything.

“Then I went to Bang’s place. He has two boys and is terribly hard up, and he agreed right off that both he and his wife would vote for you. Then I went to Henry Smith’s. He never has worked on the road, but he has a large family and if he does not raise a good crop he will need the work if anyone will. But I reckon I did not linger there long, he pretty near took a shot gun to me.”

Jerry asked impatiently, “Did you see Fred, and Hank, and Harry and Sam?”

“Yep, reckon I did, and they all agreed to be here and vote, their wives too, even if they have to bring their babies along. They all want the work and want it bad.”

“Let’s see, that makes ten votes we are sure of. Not bad for a day’s work, Tom. There are still two or three others I can see tomorrow. Much obliged.” And Jerry started his car toward home.

A little later that same evening, Granddad Slocum, who lived all alone in a little white house, was driving his car quietly along the road toward Henry Smith’s farm. He drove into the yard just as Henry came out of the barn door with two brimming pails of milk.

“Hello, Henry,” he said, “You are sort of late with your milking tonight.”

“Yes, we went over to Dot’s for supper and just got back a while ago. How are you tonight, Granddad?”

“Same as usual, poking my nose into somebody else’s business,” the old man replied.

“Now, Granddad,” Henry expostulated, after setting his pails of milk down carefully.

Whenever you poke your nose into some one else’s business, something nice usually happens. You are the happiness adjuster for this neighborhood.”

“Well, anyway, son, what I want to know is, did Tom Twiste come here this afternoon?”

“Yes, he came, but he did not stay long. Bud, and me and the dog made it too hot for him.”

“Good for you, Henry, glad you see through that little scheme of his and Jerry’s. You and I both know that John Durant is the best man for that job. Well, I will mosey along and see how some of the other fellows feel about it. So long.”

Stopping his car in front of Bang Freitag’s place, he was hailed by a peremptory shout; “Hello, Granddad, what are you doing here?”

“I have an idea you might know, Bang. Was Tom Twiste over there this afternoon?”

“Yes, he was, and we are all ready to go to school meeting tomorrow night and vote for Jerry, he is a good guy.”

“You know very well he is not such a good guy, Bang. When your barn burned down in January, did Jerry help build the new one? No, but John came over here and worked without pay for three days.”

“I helped him put up hay, so I guess we are even. I’ll have to have road work next winter or starve. We are so late planting the corn on account of rains that it sure won’t get ripe.”

At several other farm homes in the neighborhood, Granddad did not have much better luck. The men had all voted for Jerry for road boss, so now they wanted to be repaid by receiving work on the road in winter, so, of course, they would vote for Jerry for director if he would give them the work. So there you are, and it looked as if the roads would be kept in first class condition.

He found Harry Liedmann and his wife very much in favor of Jerry; they had three babies now already, and those babies must have food, and the oldest was big enough to go to school already this Fall, and he must have some new clothes to wear. But Granddad decided to do some tall persuading, as he called it, he could not let Jerry run this district completely with his home.brew and barn dances and road work. What did he think he was anyway, Hitler?

“You know, Harry, that John will be a better director than Jerry will; Durant is honest and does his work well, he is willing to hire only the best teachers. The only qualification Jerry asks in a teacher is that she lives far enough away that she will have to board at his place, the only one handy to the school house. John is a book keeper, too, and never gets his accounts mixed up. He came over to do your chores for quite a spell when you were laid up with a broken leg.”

“Ja, I know, perhaps the woman and I had better vote for him after all, already. He looks after school things pretty good and he sure did help me. We can get along some way.

Being a very thorough man, Granddad called on a few more that evening, but they did not give him very satisfactory replies so that when he turned his car toward home he felt tired and discouraged.

“Maybe it will come out all right, though, maybe it will,” he mused. “As a man sows, so shall he also reap.”

Monday evening when John came in to supper, Helen remarked; There is something in the air, all right, but I would not worry about it. Ella went up to see Mabel this afternoon and stayed quite a while. Betty happened to be there playing with the youngsters, so Ella said she came to see Mabel’s turkeys. Turkeys, fiddle.sticks.”

“Well, we shall soon see, my dear. As far as I am concerned, if a man wants a thankless job like that badly enough to go electioneering about the country or sending his wife, and bribing the people too, let him have it. Let’s eat.” Did his family suspect that he knew all about Tom’s and Jerry’s plans? No, he thought not; but why did he let that “bribing” slip?

Seated at the table, Jimmy’s fingers came to his assistance when his fork did not work fast enough, but he paused to look at his father and ask: “What’s bribing, Dad?”

“Not playing square, son,” the man answered. “You are not leaving that piece of lemon pie, are you?”

“Should say not,” replied the boy. Betty’s piece of pie disappeared more quickly than usual too, the meringue right along with the rest of it. This would be the children’s first attendance at school meeting, and were they excited?

Supper dishes were soon done, chores finished, and the gas lantern, all bright and shining, set out ready to take. Clean overalls, clean print dresses, hair brushed smooth or curly, and the little family was ready. Oh, yes, Betty must cut some writing paper into small strips for ballots and find the box of short pencils. Jimmy proudly carried Dad’s books and Mother took the lantern, for daddy must do the driving.

At the school house several cars had arrived, in which the women sat talking, their babies on their laps; while the men stood about the steps talking and smoking; children played on the teeters; all waiting for the director to come with the key and unlock the door and hang up the light.

They seemed friendly enough, yet when Helen Durant approached a car in which four or five women sat, their chatter ceased, and no one seemed to know what to say; the same thing occurred when John came near the men to unlock the door. He knew what it meant and his lips set in a grim line.

As the farmers filed in: some clean and neat in their cotton shirts and blue overalls, others so ragged and dirty that they looked more like tramps than respectable tillers of the soil; some over.burdened with work and worry, others not seeming to have a care in the world, they gradually filled one side of the room. The wives and children all found places on the other side of the room. By the time the three members of the board, gathered about the teacher’s desk at the front, had decided their books balanced to their own satisfaction at least, all the seats were taken, even the visitor’s benches along the wall.

Very little was said. A satisfied expression rested on most of the faces. An air of suppressed excitement became almost as tangible as the cigarette smoke hanging above their heads; one could feel the clashing of wills, the antagonism of opposing forces. “Something was up” in school meeting, some one’s plans had been carefully made and were about to be executed, perhaps.

Everyone listened very politely to the reading of the minutes of the last meeting, the reports of the treasurer and the director. They all tallied, no questions were raised, no complaints made. There was something more important on foot than the mere routine of business.

Then the election of director for the ensuing three years was announced by the chairman; two of the older girls appointed as tellers, and ballots passed.

In a short time the votes were being chalked up on the board: Strumm, Durant, Strumm, Durant, until each had twelve votes, Jim Hartley had four, and two other fellows had mere mention. Amid puckered brows and covert glances, this was not going exactly as Jerry Strum anticipated, the chairman, Bob Malcolm announced the second vote would be taken on the three highest. This time the result was only one for Hartley, with fifteen each for Durant and Strumm.

“Tied again,” some one exclaimed under his breath. Surely something had gone wrong with those plans. And the look which Jerry, at the back of the room shot at John, busy over his books, was not a very pleasant one.

“The third and final vote will now be taken,” the moderator said, “on the two highest, and the one receiving the most votes will be declared elected.”

So ballot slips were again passed around, then taken up and counted: one for Strumm, one for Durant, until they stood fifteen for Strumm and sixteen for Durant.

“Hurrah” some one shouted, but bitter oaths escaped the lips of a group gathered about Jerry in a rear corner of the room.

No further business was discussed, no bids made for hauling coal or cleaning the school house, no one was interested. So the meeting soon adjourned.

“I’d like to know who the traitors were,” the defeated candidate was heard to remark, as he lunged out the door, “they had better not get in my way.”

“Aw, shucks, Jerry, do not take it so hard,” a voice called from the darkness. “There will be another office open next year.”

“I promised you boys a little celebration over at my place,” Jerry said, “there is plenty of beer in the cellar, but nothing to celebrate.”

“Let’s go over and lay some new plans,” Bang offered. “We can sure make it rather unpleasant for the Mr. Director, if we all work together. Coming Tom?”

“No, I reckon not,” Tom Twiste replied, as he paused in the doorway. “You see, I was the traitor, I voted for John after all.”

“The dickens you did?” Jerry exclaimed. “You say you voted for John? Why you were my right hand man, I depended on you more than on anyone else. Would you mind explaining?”

“Nothing much to explain, Jerry. There were you fellows with your plans all made, nothing fair and square about them. There was John, knowing all about your dirty work, but gamely pretending he didn’t, and serenely leaving his fate to the good-will of the district, willing to take whichever decision was made. I could not see the best man lose. To say nothing of all he has done for me and every other fellow in this crowd who ever needed any help. Think I have said enough, Good.night.” And he started toward his car where his wife sat waiting.

“Hold on there a minute, Tom. You seem to forget we were going to put your daughter in here as teacher next year,” Jerry cried.

“I reckon my daughter can find another school, “ Tom answered, as he pressed the starter, “And remember this, Jerry, that as a man sows, so shall he also reap. John sows good deeds.”

“You beat him, Dad,” Jimmy exulted, on the homeward way.

“By a pretty close margin,” the father replied, “but we won. Jerry’s well.laid plans did not do him much good after all,” and his eyes twinkled.

“You knew all the time,” his wife exclaimed. “Well, anyway, “ she continued to herself, “As a man sows-- and John does sow good deeds.”