JMBJV THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES MUD HOLLOW SIMON N. PATTEN MUD HOLLOW From Dust to Soul BY SIMON N. PATTEN Not the aeen but the felt, not color but joy, not fact but emotion, not beauty but •ctioa, not madonnms but corn-fed sirla. Publishers DORRANCE Philadelphia COPYRIGHT 1922 BY SIMON N. PATTEN PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 1 2.7rvny To tboae who love their Anccetry, their Church, their Home, America, all her Idole — yet can laugh. f- >J J 1 MUD HOLLOW The West Amplified PART I Its Life Presented PAGE I. Mud Hollow 11 IL Bowman 17 IIL The Theologian ... 20 IV. The Professor 25 V. The Faculty Tea . . 30 VI. College Opens 40 VIL A Sexless Soul .... 47 VIIL Senior Honors .... 62 IX. The Book 69 X. The Exit 77 XL On the River 83 XIL Cross Currents ... 103 XIIL The Discovery .... 121 XIV. The Confession ... 133 XV. The Run 152 XVL The Shock 163 XVIL The Recoil 175 XVIIL The Return 189 XIX. The Hall of Wait- ing 199 XX. His Vision Clears. . 212 XXL McCabe 224 PART II Its Life Interpreted PAGE 1. The Apology 229 2. The Surviving Element 234 3. Sense Dullness 243 4. The American Blend . . 249 5. The Scotch Contribution 256 6. Pioneer Values 264 7. The Passing of Dissent 270 8. Social Values 275 9. Income Power 281 10. Normalcy 292 11. Joe Gannett 298 12. Acquired Characters . . . 309 13. Inferior Complexes .... 317 14. Super Complexes 321 15. Genetic Psychology . . . 330 16. The Sense of Sin 338 17. The Wish 347 18. Romantic Love 355 19. Protected Girls 364 20. John and Hattie 371 21. The Next Step in Evo- lution 377 PART I MUD HOLLOW Its Lite Presented Life today is shaped by the blood of the civil war, by golden harvests, and by Methodist theology. Children of this generation, reflect- ing what the viron has imposed, test the vir- tues and shortcomings of their forbears. By your children shall you be known. MUD HOLLOW Mud Hollow Artists see angels in blocks of marble. A sim- ilar instinct helped Tim Brown to see the fertility hid beneath the bullrushes of Mud Hollow. Originally a swamp, it had by drainage become a garden. Old Tim was thus a maker; what he did others did ; as he prospered so did they. The fields were square; the furrows straight. Above the ground was corn, from the corn the hog. When a farmer talked of beauty he meant hogs not his girls. All was man-made — Tim-made, the neighbors said. His broad acres had no defect; no weeds dared to invade his premises. Old Tim said he would teach water a thing or two and he had. No sooner did a drop arrive than it looked about — took the beaten track as tamely as the tradi- tional lamb. The ground thawed on the seventh of March; the first frost came on September nineteenth. Planting, harvesting, corn-picking never varied in time or amount. The sun poured out just so many calories each day. The heat became corn, the corn became hog, which by Thanksgiving averaged 328. Western sun has no vagaries. It rises a dull gray, yields its calories like a squeezed lemon, disappears too exhausted to light a candle. 11 12 MUD HOLLOW It is merely a timepiece to tell roosters of when to crow, cows of milking time, turkeys when to go to bed. Nature was humbler than the bull Tim led by the nose. Glory, glory to man. Muscle and vim astride the universe. Such was Mud Hollow. The soil was Indiana, but the heart, the mind, the thought, were still as rigidly Scotch as when Knox thundered. A stranger contrast than between week-days and Sunday could not exist. The one was carefully adjusted to local conditions, the other had not a trace of modern life. All was still except the preacher's voice and the growing corn. In this group Old Tim was the glorified chief. A better farmer, a more pig-headed theologian never ex- isted. Calvinism was his glory. Methodism his aversion. He never mixed with the common clay across the street. Six days he worked; no flow- ers, no play, no camp-meeting for him. The Civil War broke this isolation; the West, ceasing to be a series of clans, marched behind a banner which blended more faiths than it had stripes. Old Tim for the first time sat on the platform with his Methodist neighbors. For Lin- coln they shouted; for Lincoln they voted; for Lincoln they fought. Like every other town Mud Hollow had its Lincoln celebration. There were horsemen, Indians, revolutionary heroes, wide-awakes, girls with banners, but the crown of crowns was the Goddess of Liberty on a chariot, which in the en- thusiasm of the hour was dragged around the square by leading citizens. When the Goddess finally descended everybody, Tim included, kissed her in truly western fashion. It was a grand affair, at least in Indiana eyes. Tim was pleased, 60 pleased that he forgot he kissed the girl he had denounced for loving flowers better than the washtub. Community campaigning had its cost MUD HOLLOW 13 as well as glory. When patriotism crosses the road, love follows. If he could kiss the Goddess of Liberty so could his boy. The wedding was a grand affair. All of the two churches sat in the pews. The beauty of one group, the pride of the other, walked down the aisle; their union blended two long antagonistic groups. As the couple left the church they found before the Post Office an excited crowd. Lincoln had called for troops. All lined up, the groom with the rest ; when the last drill came, and the engine puffed, a pale girl leaning against the corner of the depot was beginning to realize how different the world is from what we imagine. What a change the war made : barns were emp- tied, sacrifice replaced joy; women did men's work. The bride going through with the rest finally got her reward in a maimed husband. Ex- ternally she was like her neighbors. What they acquired through centuries she got in one dose. She not only cooked but did the outdoor work of a man. A familiar sight was to see her astride a corn plow or pitching in the hay field. Yet all was done so quietly few realized her burden. Today she was dark and sinewy. Her face once seen was seldom forgotten. When she came to town the old soldiers stood attention and ran her errands like schoolboys. A boy came, the pride of Old Tim, the hope of the town. Every old soldier was Paul's god- father, evincing that partiality in which over- friendly admirers indulge. Such conditions would have spoiled most boys. Petted children seldom make great men. His salvation came through his character's not fitting his viron. What he could do was not valued; what he could not do stood high in public esteem. In arithmetic he surpassed, but prestige came from spelling. The 14 MUD HOLLOW, glib rhymes other boys poured out on exhibition days were beyond his power. When the annual school exhibition came with its dialogues and theatricals Paul never got higher than door- keeper. Seemingly stupid where the town ex- pected excellence, he would have been looked on as a country jake but for the reputation of his family. ''Looks like his mother," people said. He did, but in his tearful grindings at the spell- ing book his jaw was clinched as firmly as the grandfather 's. The two were inseparable. What Tim knew was poured into willing ears ; all his farm stand- ards, all his prejudice, all the family tradition, the boy knew. He became a replica of his grand- father, in opinion, manners, gestures ; even more narrow and rigid in his views. Home was a realm that reflected heaven ; Indiana an empire so large that it crowded the stars. All went smoothly until old Tim's death trans- ferred Paul from the home to school. Like all western villages Mud Hollow had an imported normal school enthusiast who brought with her culture, sweetness and light. She reformed the accents of children ; corrected their manners, was vitriolic in spelling ; but sin of all sin in the boy's eyes — what grandfather taught and mother did came in sharp contrast with the well-meaning but somewhat misguided instruction of this^ normal aesthete. The blackboard was covered with flow- ing lines which she made with an ease that aston- ished Paul, who try as he would could not make his awkward fingers move in flomng curves. She put a bird on the top of the figure 7 ; placed a nest with eggs in each of the loops of the fi,gure 8; had roses in her hair, rings on her fingers. Her knowledge was as cosmopolitan as her dress. She had two-week courses in everything from Greek architecture to the modern drama. MUD HOLLOW 15 More miglit be told of the virtue, knowledge and skill of this normal prodigy but the real point is not what she knew but how she impressed the boy. He sat sturdily in a back seat, reticent but boiling with an inward rage. She extolled spell- ing ; he marked in his book words that in his view were spelled wrong. The birds she put on the board he rubbed out every time he got a chance. He clung to the home pronunciation as firmly as to church creed. He never broke rules, but hatred of school grew with the months. All this is doubt- less wrong. It might have been punished if known. But being repressed it became an emo- tional wave coloring his life. At last a break came. One of the school feats was reading without a mistake. Some girls could read a page; Paul could never read a sentence without technical errors. His slow Bro-\vn hesi- tation tripped him at every trial. The girls laughed, even mocked; chagrined, he refused to read. Then came a struggle with teacher ; finally he yielded but burst out crying, sobbing for min- utes when in his seat. The teacher felt her dis- cipline had triumphed. His mother kissed him for submission. Neither knew the turmoil raging in the boy's mind. He threw stones at birds, per- secuted cats, slashed roses. Rebuked, he took vengeance on thistles, decapitating them with fierce blows. * ' How like his grandfather, ' ' every- one said. Old Tim hated weeds ; Paul hated girls, an inevitable result of subjecting slowly develop- ing boys to the censure of glib girls. The real Paul, the budding Paul, came to the surface in another way, to understand which the influence of Colonel Saunders must be understood. Every Indiana town has a Xentucky colonel, a man more noted for talk than for deed. All the adjectives of the dictionary were at his command. 16 MUD hollow; At donation parties, wedding anniversaries, on the Fourth of July, he was in his element. Mrs. Brown was a favorite ; her cakes, her pies, her bread, her chicken and waffles, her house and her farm gave him endless opportunity to extol. The Colonel could make a Grecian goddess blush in return for a glass of water. Paul would not deny these excellences. But to him she was some- thing higher, nobler, something the Colonel's words never reached. He would outdo the Colonel. He would coin a mother-description that would pale anything Saunders had done. This was quite a task for a boy in a speechless family. Words were not his forte ; but if the Browns did not have words they had a will that more than made up. When they started no obstacle was too great to surmount. In this spirit Paul took up his chosen task. He wrote and re-wrote but his ideal of mother grew faster than his words. He tried poetry but in it he never acquired enough proficiency to gain admission to the village paper. From the diction- ary long lists of words were compiled to be used in the great Philippic on which he labored. When the dictionary failed he took the study of Greek. This Paul followed with a vigor which made it seem that he had a real love of literature. Hunt as he would for fitting words, they never came. He kept on trying to coin words but they never quite fitted his mother's case. At last fortune came his way. Professor Stuart, stopping at Mud Hollow on a Western trip, gave his oft-repeated lecture in laudation of women. The to^vn liked Kentucky oratory better, but Paul was electrified. Stuart's sentences had a mystical ring which seemed vague to practical people; but to Paul they gave promise that he might at length reach his long-sought goal. That fall an uncouth, awk- ward boy left the Indiana plain for Pennsylvania BOWMAN 17 .hills. The flat straight was to fit itself to the curved hill; the prairie to the forest. Are the mud-hen and the eagle twins or strangers 1 II Bowman In its settlement Pennsylvania represents more fully than elsewhere the diverse elements out of which our nation rose. We emphasize our unity so much that the strange commingling of races, creeds and aspirations among our forefathers does not stand out as clearly as it should. Of those, Pennsylvania had a double share because of the open door extended to all strangers. In many ways the Quakers were narrow but they were always true to the principles for which they stood. All were welcome whatever the variation in character or faith. But this prevented homo- geneity. Ten miles, a river, or a range of hills often made an impassable barrier separating lo- calities more completely than broad oceans now do. These little worlds had their peculiar life. They became a series of layers, each striving to keep its own religion, thought and language. While there has been some yielding of boundaries, these essential contrasts remain. Pennsylvania is still a federation — ^not a state. Coming later than the Quakers, the Scotch- Irish occupy a worthy place. They found the fertile southeast section occupied. Forced into the foot-hills or the upland valleys, they found a region resembling in ruggedness the land they left. In it they sought to make a new Scotland and to perpetuate the institutions and beliefs to which the Scotch so fondly cling. _ For a whole century little occurred to break their isolation or 18 MUD HOLLOW. to introduce the new ideas floating into America through many doors. No serious inroads in cus- toms or thouglit were made until tlie Civil War broke on them like a devastating cyclone. Its youth for the first time, flowing out, mingled with the larger world. The veteran brought home a new view of human relations which, remolding history, elevated disliked races into a broad com- radeship. Why should interest continue in Euro- pean conflicts when our own social problems were looming to a place of supreme importance! The new and the old clashed ; nowhere was the strug- gle so severe as among the Scotch-Irish rigidly bound by their Calvinistic faith and tradition. It was the old problem of the irresistible meeting the immovable. What is more immovable than dogma and what more irresistible than the genial faith of the modern democrat? Bowman was one of those communities to which pioneers flocked. Its old log church was the center of many a controversy from which the orthodox always came forth victorious. Its preachers formed a long line of solid defenders of the faith which at length blossomed into a theological school of national reno^vn, from which flowed old ideas as from a well undefiled. The college gradually grew up around the school, until recently merely a preparatory school for the bud- ding divines. The whole atmosphere was thus sternly Puritan. Life was regarded as too severe a task to make its joy w^orth cultivating. Today, standing on its campus, one could hard- ly help exclaiming ''Beautiful"; yet this was a word nobody thought of appljdng for a whole century. The site was chosen not for its beauty but for its utility. We are apt to think of our ancestors as artistic and of ourselves as utili- tarian ; yet the opposite is the case. The upland soil was more readily adapted to the cultivation BOWMAN 19 of wheat, tlie staple article both of food and of export. On these hill-tops our ancestors led their calm, isolated lives. Bowman thus changed from utility to beauty without anyone's perceiving the change or doing much to help it along. It was on a bench between two branches of the river flowing through the valley below. This bench, reaching back many miles, connected with the main range of hills. On its top ran an old road along which the wood of the interior was carried to the local sawmill. The Ridge Road, as it is now called, has so many views of the valley on both sides that it seems designed for its artistic effects. But no such thought entered the minds of its projectors. They merely avoided the gullies which the rain had washed in the hillsides. Perhaps the loggers oc- casionally looked down into the valleys below but we may be sure they shuddered at the view more often than they smiled. Thinking of the glories of Scotland or of the songs of the Israelite prophets, one can understand the feeling with which the uplander looks down on the depth ; cor- rupt and vicious, if occupied ; and full of physical dangers if not. At one of the points now most cherished is a stone on which the Rev. Alexander McCarter sat while he wrote his famous sermon on * ' The Second Coming," in which he pictured the flaming sword moving up the valley below. So accurate was the description that even now his sermon is used to give a picture of the region as it was. With these thoughts in the background, what was beauty to Bowman? The village was not the result of town planning, but of the accident of growth. The green which became the college campus was in the foreground slightly sloping towards the river. On its far side stood the old church noted for its pulpit eloquence 20 MUD HOLLOW and its severe orthodoxy. It could not claim much beauty except for the ivy which clung to its sides. A broad avenue lined with chestnuts ran between the college buildings and the green ; but the other streets had no plan, each following the lay of the land which, fortunately, was too uneven to per- mit rectangular squares. The houses were as near or far from the street as the breadth of land be- tween the road and the hill behind permitted. If they stood back, a fine lawn added to their charm ; but often they squarely faced the street. At one time these street houses had a rather squalid appearance, as they were the homes of the poor. But the railroad town on the other side of the river gradually emptied Bowman of its working population. This accident gave Bo^vman its unique char- acter. Life was unpretentious and yet had the air of refinement seldom seen in so small a place. On the green were few ornaments. Before the Seminary stood a monument to commemorate the missionary efforts for which Bowman was noted. Its tablet deserved attention as BoAvman had a martjT class, of whose nine members seven had died either in missionary service or on the battle- field. There was room at the bottom for the names of two men whose reputation gave to Bow- man a unique position. Malcolm Stuart and Samuel Dickson were the ones to be added. Ill The Theologian Samuel Dickson, D.D., LL.D., was the title of the dean of the Theological School. He was the fifth in a line of preachers with cousins, uncles THE THEOLOGIAN 21 and relatives so numerous in the same work that the Dickson family could almost claim the title of defenders of the faith. After graduation he be- came a missionary, giving this up only at the urgent call of the home church. Bowman seemed likely to be eclipsed by mushroom seminaries of doubtful orthodoxy. ^Tio could save the day bet- ter than one uncontaminated by modern thought? The returning solidity of con^dction throughout the church bore evidence of his ability. All was well or at least seemed well except for the break Professor Stuart was making. Of what avail was it to scorch Satan in a hundred outlying places if right at home his corrupting influence was ap- parent ? Dr. Dickson was a short, thick-set man with a high forehead and protruding chin. His middle- face was thin and filled out only when he spoke with emphasis. Then the strong face muscles be- came prominent, which with the accompanying glow of earnestness made him a handsome man in the pulpit. Many were his admirers; he de- served them. A description of the doctor is not complete without a glimpse of his wife. Every male Cal- vinist has back of him a female voice urging him on. This will be stoutly denied by the defenders of their faith. What is bolder than the way in which Calvinist ministers malign woman? She seems merely a penitent Magdalene having no place except at the pleasure of man. This, how- ever, is merely a flow of words. In reality the woman drives; the man follows. He talks firmly but in trouble asks Jane what to do. Calvinism has left its mark both on men and women. It is hard to tell how many ages man dragged woman after him in his exploits. It was certainly long enough to make the tradition of the church and to shape woman's thought so that 22 MUD HOLLOW she accepts its limitations as natural. No woman could survive who questioned them. They thus became defenders of their own repression— keep- ers of their own prison doors. Each generation of women shaped the next to fit the situation in which they survive, a regime which leaves x)hysical as well as mental marks. A weak chin, a full middle-face, a sloping forehead, was either caused "by this repression or became the limits beyond which woman could not pass. Firmness would be suicidal. The strong-minded entered the church or died old maids. While survival came through hunting, fishing and fighting the man dominated, but when it de- pended on clothes, cooking and cleanliness the woman came to her own. The plagues did much to inaugurate the new epoch. They were filth diseases carried by clothes, food and dirt. Clean- liness thus became more than godliness since cooking was the only means of germ extermina- tion. On top of this came the visitation of tuber- cular germs which infected dirty houses as the plagues did food and clothing. The conquerors of these were not the hunter, fisher and warrior, but the woman with wash-tub and cook-stove. The man asked the woman for pastry instead of her begging meat of him. Soap was more power- ful than powder. The dominating man and the slovenly housewife died of their own carelessness. The woman of muscle gained a husband and bore him children of a new kind. Woman was silent in church but ruled at home. This compromise is Calvinism well exemplified in the relations of Dr. and Mrs. Dickson. No one was a more pronounced advocate of man's rule than she nor a firmer believer in woman's frailty. Yet Dr. Dickson always carried out her instructions. She was tall for a woman and would have risen above her husband if he THE THEOLOGIAN 23 had not worn a high hat. Her hands were large, her bones developed, her muscles tightly drawn. There was no end to what she could endure; her planning outran her deeds. She stirred not only Dr. Dickson's activity but that of the whole town; was president of a dozen missionary societies, led the Christian Endeavor, was Sunday school sup- erintendent and presided at all the women's teas — monarch of all she surveyed except Professor Stuart. Here was a gulf she never crossed; it vexed her beyond measure that such a thorn not only stayed but grew. Mrs. Dickson was not exotic, but the product of long evolution. There are dozens like her in every town who would manifest the same traits if the occasion permitted. Man idealizes one kind of a woman, nature is forcing another kind on him. There is thus a death struggle between what he wants and what he must accept. He admires a pretty face, small hands, narrow waist and slop- ing shoulders. Such was the primitive woman and such is the modern Madonna whom artists draw. No matter what ancient conditions de- manded, she does not fit modern life. In earlier days when religion acted as a force to guide evolution, each sect tended to create an individual type by attracting the like and repel- ling the discordant. America was then a group of groups, each moving in its owm way, preserv- ing if not enlarging its own individuality. Of these the Methodist and the Calvinist were the more easily recognized. Methodism saved sin- ners; Calvinism ruled the saints whose emotions it could not arouse. There were thus upper and lower strata, each molding its people in its own way. Methodism was the new and the higher. It broke tradition and freed the soul. But the phy- sical type it tended to create was reversion. In a Methodist church the man walked down the aisle 24 MUD HOLLOW with a firm step ; a humble, weak-chinned woman followed. In the rival church the woman led; a tame, subdued man followed even the children. No elder was without a prodding wife. His life had thorns as well as roses. Scotch women are pure, noble, virtuous, but they also have acid tongues. Some experienced with both types Avould rather be vociferously scolded at times than nagged all the while. When a Methodist woman bursts into a flame it is better to retire to the barn until passion subsides. Then a box of candy will straighten things out. Not so with the Cal- vinist. She has quieter ways but they are per- sistent. Feeling she must act through her hus- band, she exerts a constant pressure which often is far from agreeable. There never was a more vigorous group than those who conquered the West for Methodism. They might slip in their English, but the volume of their voice was never in question. Sinners had to put their fingers in their ears to keep the gospel out. This at a time when Calvinist ministers wore spectacles, feared drafts and took pills for diges- tion. Any old almanac will tell the vigor of the praise they bestowed on patent nostrums; who can praise except those who use? The Methodist cured his cold by pounding the Bible. For a whole century no one became bishop who wore less than number eleven boots nor until he had pounded a hole in six Bibles. His feet and his hands were as big as his soul. Shoes tell the story of the ascent of Methodism. Physical might may not be as lofty as spiritual right but it wins. The world is for the strong even if the saints get the first place above. THE PROFESSOR 25 IV The Professor A reader of character would have gone astray if he had attempted to judge Professor Stuart by appearance. Of all guesses the last would be that here stood a survivor of the Civil War, noted for his courage and audacity. Yet such was the case. Of the first to enlist, he had been in every campaign in which the Army of the Potomac fought. So efficient was his service that the end of the war found him in charge of a famous scout- ing troop. It is said that Sheridan desired to give him a commission in the regular army but the offer of the Greek professorship in liis home college proved more attractive. Many are the tales told of his exploits and many the scars he bore. One was plainly visible on his right cheek but others more serious were covered by the straggling gray beard which hid what otherwise would be a deformity. The body marks were even more prominent but there were enough in sight to bear evidence of his valor. At sixty there was nothing of the soldier about him, except on Decoration Day when the old uni- form was burnished and the spurs clanked at the heels of his army boots. He seemed another man on this occasion or when he headed a group fol- lowing some comrade to his final rest. All this would have made him worthy of notice but it is not this that made his character. The face of a woman had always been present even in the thickest of his fights. He was glad when the hour came to throw off his uniform and claim his bride. What could be better than a happy home and the quiet charm of a college professor- ship! Ida and Greek — what a combination! No 26 MUD HOLLOW wonder the military step was displaced and war memories became a dream. This Eden was not destined to last. Ida faded in spite of his care. All that remained was an enlarged photo and a little girl said to be her image. The Professor changed, but it was a change of love from one woman to all her kind. From now on he became an ardent advocate of woman's rights. Many are the pamphlets which he con- tributed to the early stages of the suffrage move- ment; many more were the lectures he gave to advance its sacred cause. In college his opening course was a history of w^oman rather than of man. Back of each hero he saw the woman who gave him force. What are nations and conquest compared with human love? This may be crude doctrine, modern professors of history would smile at its innocent perspective, but it sufficed to give him zeal for a work which otherwise would have been a task. All this might have happened, and yet not have given Stuart the place he held but for the trans- formation of thought which the reading of John Stuart Mill's autobiography wrought. Mill had been educated in a peculiar way. All ancestral beliefs were withheld in the hope of removing the cramping influence of false ideas. ''Why not!" said Stuart, as he laid aside the volume, "apply the same treatment to a girl?" Yes, he would show the world a natural w^oman — one who stood on her own feet, thought her own thoughts, dream- ed her own dreams. A tuoman without tears; no repressions save those of her own awakened con- science. To him a w^oman's woes are the un- natural product of her repressions. Baby Ruth should have none of these. She was to blossom as God intended; never knowing what tears or sorrow meant. THE PROFESSOR 27 The Professor set about liis chosen task in a most systematic manner. It was not for him to trim or guide. The tree grows, the germ comes to maturity without pruning. If God plans so carefully for plants and animals, why has He not implanted in woman the promptings which evoke her full development? Let a girl be happy, give her full contact with nature. All man can do is to wait and to keep woman away. To be sponsor of the first free woman caused an isolation of Ruth from the woman world and a disregard of decorum which shocked the town as much as it pleased the Professor. They saw as depravity what to him was budding originality. When Ida died many were the kind offers of her woman friends to care for Ruth. Stuart re- jected them all kindly but firmly. When they be- gan to protest at her antics he resented their intrusion. What were books, laws and traditions but deadening repressions which make for ab- normality? Woman's beauty is God's truth. What He implanted she will fulfill if only the tribe of arrogant teachers ceases to interfere. Such ideas could not but provoke strong re- action among the zealous Calvinists of Bowman. The Professor soon came to be regarded the bane of the town; the girl as a new trial to test the faith of the orthodox. Woman must walk a straight path, deviation from which is death. Time-honored traditions fix the boundary of her activity. Those who could not stand the rigor of these chains died or broke away. To harbor such a heresy, to permit such an exhibition in their town, was to invite God's wrath to be visited alike on the innocent and the guilty. Bibles were diligently thumbed ; many were the passages hurled at the Professor to show Imnthe error of his way. When these failed, noted divines were imported to confound the guilty. But all in 28 MUD HOLLOW vain. The Professor grew more determined but at the same time more gentle. This irritated his opponents. If he would only hit back some form of church discipline might be imposed. But to enjoy the fiery darts hurled at him seemed more than a crime. When Andrew Bain preached his Philippic against woman's depravity, pointing his finger straight at the Professor a dozen times, Stuart was the first to congratulate the worthy reverend at the close of the sermon. "What can we do with such a hardened sinner I ' ' the women cried in unison. It was indeed a hopeless case. All they could do w^as to read the prophecies more carefully and grow stronger in the faith. Some bitter punish- ment must come to the town, so bitter that they shuddered to think of it. Thus Euth became not only the center of town controversy but of state-wide agitation. It fre- quently got into the Presbytery and even in the committee rooms of the General Assembly. But what might be done not even the wisest could say. For once the catechism was short of perfection. There is no mention of what is woman 's chief end. Through this omission a thorn arose which had to be endured until God saw fit to withdraw it. Had some other father sought to do what Stuart did the experiment might have been more promis- ing. The girl ought to have had a higher fore- head and broader chin to be an apt disciple of the doctrines her father taught. They never got into her heart; anybody but the Professor woul*^ have given up his chosen task before the year was out. But to him this aloofness was a virtue. It showed, he thought, a true budding of woman- hood. Let the plant grow; the flower will come; after which the fruit. The merry prattle of a girl will change to the serious conduct of the woman in nature's own way. The more she laughs, the THE PROFESSOR 29 less she thinks, the better will be the basis on which her motherhood rests. Women were to him a product fitted to its end in nature's supreme way. He did not expect a girl to be intellectual; he had no love of child precocity. ''The healthy," he was fond of say- ing, ' ' have plenty of time. ' ' Smiling at tlie pranks of the girl, he rejoiced in her ignorance and was fond of telling about mistakes which would have made another father flush. A series of exact measurements were taken every month in which the size of hand and foot figured prominently. Her shoes he showed his visitors with great de- light. They were two sizes larger than worn by girls of her age. Her weight alone fell short of the ideal record. While well boned and muscular, she had slim ease of movement that made her attractive. Bro- ham, the artist, said she had too much chin to be a Madonna and not enough nose to be a Grecian goddess. Perhaps this is so. She certainly had nothing of the Madonna about her. No Italian artist would have picked her as a model. Her nose may have been slight but her eyes flashed as she smiled and her cheer was proverbial. Frank and outspoken, she gained the reputation of for- wardness, yet she was not self-centered nor over- confident. Such was the girl but of more imx^ortance was her viron. Except across the street she never saw other girls and hence had none of their man- ner nor world view. Her father was her sole companion through her earlier years; later the athletic field became the center of her interest. Only a hedge separated her home from the field through which she made her advent on what was to become her chosen haunt. She laughed and chatted with the boys or slept within the shade of overhanging trees. Her language was a boy's 30 MUD HOLLOW language. She knew their current terms and used them freely. To hear her one would think a boy was talking unless he recognized her voice. Her familiarity with games enabled her to use the jargon of the athletic field effectively. No one counted with her unless he could jump, run, bat or buck the line. She had the heart of a girl and the ways of a boy. The Faculty Tea The center of attention was the faculty bride, fresh from college with all the presumption which advanced courses give to women. She shook her head in a way which indicated an awareness of her superiority. An expert in everything from anthropology to modern literature, she expressed herself with more authority than young women at Bowman were accustomed to have. "What does she mean?" said one. "Is she trying to make fun of us? That young man will discover a Ph.D. after his wife's name won't help him much." "Oh, it'll rub off after a while," said Mrs. Wells, the mother emeritus of the faculty. ' ' She isn't any worse than most of the new instructors. Sh-she's coming over here now." Mrs. Powell threaded her way through the small groups around the patent plush rocker in Avhich her hostess sat, drew a chair for Mrs. Wells and arranged that lady in it. Then lowering a window shade, she made herself "Very much at home in another woman's house." "The idea!" was the unconscious judgment of a dozen behold- ers. "Where are the f acuity f" asked Mrs. Powers in her full voice. "Do husbands ever drop in? — THE FACULTY TEA 31 No? Well, what shall I do to meet that dear old posey, Professor Stuart? He doesn't seem to be of the calling kind ; I want to talk to him about his theories. Reading his essay to my husband, he said my periods became positively rotund, that I made gestures and raised my eyes to heaven. Professor Stuart told me I was by nature a god- dess. You've seen the article, haven't you? Mill, Rousseau — a dash of Plato — plus the poetic ideal- ism of the author's own self. Do you agree with him, Mrs. Ames! Are we a seraphic host sweeter than what honey-bees extract from flowers'?" The dignity of Mrs. Ames ' displeasure with the free, easy manner of this probationary alien was not touched by the thrust. She clasped her fingers below her waist, while she spoke in measured tones : " I differ with Malcolm Stuart on principle and never believe a word he says about women, God or anything else. We earn redemption by thorns and sacrifice, not by tasting what the tempter has to offer. ' ' Mrs. Powell laughed and said, "Yes, I agree with you; we ought to earn our spurs before we wear them. After all, miglitn 't we accept his the- sis for the sake of the assumption in his argu- ment? I'm willing to blink the facts of social evolution just to hear what compliments such an old dear will pay us next." "Oh, you woudn't like to hear him talk — he's so embarrassing in private! I'm very sure your husband wouldn't, either. A man doesn't want his wife to get into such dicussions." "What discussions! Do tell me. As for Doctor Powell, he proposed in the midst of a Ph.D. disser- tation on Polyandry in Tibet; I should divorce him if he objected to anything such a delightful cameo as Professor Stuart could possibly say." "He's a slick talker. Were it anybody else, I'd call him foxy. In the middle of the street lay 32 MUD HOLLOW Miss Ruth flat on her back, throwing dust over herself. I spoke right out : ' Is that the way you bring up a girl, half hen and half pig ? ' Laughing like a great boob, he said, ' If she and the dust are cousins, why not embrace ? ' I answered him right back — I'd made up my mind to before I w^ent. If you don't, he winds you around his little finger. So I gave him as good as he sent. ' She has a soul to save and the dust hasn't. A clean girl makes a good mother, that's why.' '' 'So you agree with Demonthenes, I perceive,' says he. " 'Oh, I don't know whether I agree with him or not,' I answered back. Then he smiled in his sarcastic way, ' I am confident you do. The Bow- man and the Greek idea are essentially one.' '' 'It's no such thing. BoAvman is Christian, Greeks worshipped horned cattle. Such as you brought into that horrid play last spring.' "Then I came home, mad way through. That's the worst of talking to him. You don't know what's coming next, and he says such perfectly dreadful things, lugging in anything so long as it makes a point, whether it ought to be there or not." "But if it makes a point, the material is cer- tainly relevant," said Mrs. Powell. "Not when it's untrue, never w^hen it's sugges- tive," stated Mrs. Ames with fine theological de- terminism, made emphatic by the perception that the speaker was not quite refined. "It is best that Ruth should be taught things that will fit her to become a useful woman, with all the privileges of a Christian community. She should know how to keep house, to cook and sew. Mrs. Wells offered to teach her but her father is deaf to reason. I have urged him to bring his widowed sister here to look after Ruth, instead of that ignorant old colored woman — but no!" THE FACULTY TEA 33 *'He keeps Mammy on that very account, you know," added Mrs. Wells. "How interesting!" said Mrs. Powell. "What is his reasoning? "His reasoning is that he doesn't want her restrained, frightened or disciplined. He claims that this old slave woman who was his wife's playmate down South is the only woman who won't twist her out of the pattern God intended for her. Every woman in the church is up in arms about it. Oh, how that harum-scarum gets on my nerves. Only yesterday I saw Miss Ruth on the lawn kneeling head-over-heels as if no man were within a hundred miles — somersaults, handsprings, cartwheels the boys call them. I was so dis- gusted after all the effort that has been made for her safety that I spoke to her father about it. I did not mince matters, I assure you ! — but he was as bland and stubborn as ever. He began to be poetic about the grass and the birds and what not." Mrs. Powell repressed a smile which led Mrs. Ames into the role of post-interpreter. "What did he say?" repeated Mrs. Ames, mus- ing. ' ' W-e-11, he wanted to know what could harm a pure girl on the clean grass with the blue sky above. Does it harm the 5fr