The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1914-09-17
row, as I first intended. Tell him
you're Mrs. McChesney's son."

row, as I first intended. Tell him
you're Mrs. McChesney's son."
He turned away. Emma McChesney
brought her handkerchief up to her
mouth and held it there a moment, and
the skin showed white over the
knuckles of her hand. In that moment
every n of her ~thirty-six years were
on the table, face up.
We'll wash up" said Emma Nc
Chesney, when he returned, "and then
we'll have dinner here"
II don't want to eat here" objected
Jock McChesney. Besides. there's no
reason why l can't keep my evenings
engagements"
"And after dinner" went on his
mother, as though she had not heard,
we'll get acquainted, kid"
It was a cherries, rather tragic
meal, though Emma McCLesney saw it
through from soup to tinger-bowls.
When it was over she led the way
down the old-fashioned, red-carpeted
corridors to her room. It was the sort
of room to get on its occupants nerves
at any time, with its red plush arm
chairs, Its black walnut bed, and it's
walnut center table inlaid with an apo
plectic slab Of purplish marble.
Emma McChesney took off her hat
before the dim old mirror, and stood
there, aufing out her hair here, pat
ting it there. Jock had thrown his
hat and coat on the bed. He stood
now, leaning against the footboard, his
legs crossed, his chin on his breast,
his whole attitude breathing sullen de-
fance.
"Jock." said his mother. still patting
her hair, perhaps you don't know it,
but you're pouting just as you used to
when you wore pinafores. I always
hated pouting children. I'd rather
hear them howl. I used to spank you
for it. I have prided myself on being
a modern mother, but I want to men,
ton, in passing, that I'm still in a po-
sition to enforce that ordinance against
%pouting." She turned around abruptly.
Jock, tell me, how did you happen to
come here a day ahead of me, and how
do you happen to be SO chummy with
that pretty, weak-faced little thing at
the yelling counter, and how, in the
name Of all that's unbelievable, have
you managed to become a grown-up in
the last few months?"
Jock regarded the mercifully faded
roses in the carpet. His lower lip came
forward again.
"Oh, a fellow can't always be tied
to his mothers apron strings. I like
to have a little fling myself. I know a
lot of fellows here. They are frat
brothers. And anyway, I needed some
new clothes"
For one long moment Emma Nc
Chesney stared. in silence. Then: "Of
course" she began, slowly, II knew
you were seventeen years old. I've
even Dragged about it. I've done more
than that-1've gloried in it. But some
how, whenever l thought of you in my
heart-and that was a great deal Of
the tt:ne-it was as though you still
were a little tyke in k%nee-pants, with
your cap on the back of your head,
and a chunk of apple bullying your
cheek. Jock, I've been earning close
to six thousand a year since I put in
that side line Of garters. Just how
much spending money have I been pro-
viding you with?"
Jock twirled a coat button uncom-
%fortably. "Well, quite a lot. But a
fellows got to have money to keep up
appearances. A lot Of the fellows in
my crowd have more than l.. There
are clothes, and tobacco, and then flow
ers, and cabs for the skirts-girls, I
mean, and"
kid" impressive1y, IT want you to
sit down over there in that plush chair
the red one, with the Jumps in the
back. I want you to be uncomfortable.
From where / am sitting I can see that
in you there is the making of a first
class cad. That's no pleasant thing for
a mother to realize. Now don't inter-
rupt me. I'm going to be chairman,
speaker, program, and ways-and-means
committee of this meeting. Jock, I got
my divorce from your father ten years
ago. Now, I'm not going to say any
thing about him. Just this one thing.
You're not going to follow in his foot
steps, kid. Not if I have to take you
to pieces like a nickel watch and nut
you all together again. You're Emma
McChesney's son, and ten years from
now I intend to be able to brag about
1t, or I'll want to know the reason
why-and it'll have to be a blamed
good reason"
"Id like to know what I've done!"
blurted the boy. "Just because hap
pened to come here a few hours be-
fore you expected me, and Just be-
cause you saw me talking to a girl!
Why"
1T isn't what you've done. It's what
those things stand for. I've been at
fault. But I'm willing to admit it.
Your mother is a working woman,
| .IOck Won don'f Hlo fhof }doo a.