The Pageland journal. [volume] (Pageland, S.C.) 1911-1978, 1917-05-02
THE BLUE STOCKING
BY OSBORN JONES.

his career as an instructor In wom-
ans college," said Justine Craddock,
dean Of Jones College for Women,
when Alan Kilby went to her Office to
consult her regarding his acceptance
Of position just offered him as the
new professor Of economics.
Alan had gone to see her, partly be-
cause he had known her several years
before when they were both students
at co-educational college In the West,
and partly because the offer at Jones
college was distinctly better than the
assistant professorship he held in q
mans college.
1T doesn't seem like a mans job"
he told her frankly, and she had looked
at him not with the amusement he
expected.
"Hang it all, Justine, it's just that
can't stand this blue-stocking atmos-
phere. think it's that as much as
anything else"
"There are very few blue-stockings
here" said Justine. "In fact, some
times l wish there were more. Blue
stockings have their good points, you
know"
From woman's point Of view, per-
haps. But I'm primitive enough to
like a feminine woman. and it goes
against the grain to see these girls,
some Of them pretty, almost all Of
them healthy and happy, being fed into
this mill, to have the woman and the
femininity ground out. They ought to
be marrying, most of them-marrying
and making men what they ought to
be, and having children and keeping
house."
"Of course you have never married
yourself" suggested Justine.
mo, and when do shall not look
to woman's college for a wife. I'm
; not educated up to that yet"
"From all Of which, suppose, am
to infer that you do not accept the po-
sition?"
mo. The fact is, think do. It's
too good to turn down."
So Alan Kilby became professor Of
economics at Jones. The first lecture
was more uncomfortable than he had
expected 1t to be. AS time went on the
lectures were easier and Alan had time
to look about him. Sometimes there
were suppressed giggles. and some
times three whispering heads bent to-
gether In the back rows Of seats, un-
mindful Of word Of the lecture-un-
mindful, too. that from the vantage
point Of his desk the professor could
not only see thsU but could catch
snatches OF their whispered conversa-
don.
III i do say It, look awfully well
10 yellow" said one whisper.
mot that lemon shade-more of a
salmon, don't you think7"
"How long is the skirt? They are
getting longer"
II know, but my Tom likes them
short. Have you learned the new
steps. No, that new wiggly waltz step.
l mean. He doesn't see us, and we
can get the notes from Ida" isn't
he perfect dear?" 'Ida's quite crazy
about him. That's why she sits in
| front and takes such long notes."
And later: well, anyway, Kilby's
a dear. Did you ever see such eyes2"
Going down the corridor later in the
day he CHANGED the meet the dean.
Good morning, Mr.. Kilby," she said,
always with the same serenity. "How
| are the blue stockings?"
Blue stockings" muttered Kilby. "If
there are any they haven't elected eco
nomics."
Kilby fed from the building to his
own study Ill his boarding house.
There as he puffed at mis- comforting
pipe he took leather picture case
| from his pocket and opened 1t. 1t
contained picture Of the dean that he
had clipped from the magazine article
on "The Youngest College Dean" The
| picture showed her in cap and gown,
| with none Of the graciousness and al
most motherly large heartedness that
kilby had come to appreciate within
the few weeks he had been at Jones.
Still, he found satisfaction in looking
at the picture-just as a reminder, he
said, Of the allegiance he owed to his
chief. This day he looked at the pic
ture longer than usual
I've got to get better picture" he
told himself as he rose from his chair
and hurried through the campus to
the deans Office. But when he reached
there he forgot the picture and thought
only Of the original"
How are the blue stockings?" asked
the dean, as she closed the papers she
was working over at her desk and pre-
pared to take an easier chair by the
open fireplace, where she might chat In
comfort with Alan.
Blue stockings-there aren't any,"
groaned Alan. you're blue stock
Ing, and they're-they're just girls.
Listen, Justine. I've decided that the
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