Part 21 (2/2)
”No!”
”Are ye willin' to learn them things?”
”I didn't come here for that purpose.”
”Then, what t' 'ell ye kickin' about?” Tom cried, and, glaring at the poet, he thundered fiercely:
”Set down!”
The man of song was so disconcerted by this unexpected onslaught, and by the roars of laughter which greeted Tom's final order, that he dropped into his seat, muttering incoherent protests, and the balloting for the executive council proceeded at once amid universal good humour.
A dozen names were proposed as candidates, and the four receiving the highest votes were declared duly elected.
The election resulted in the choice of Herman Wolf, Catherine, Barbara Bozenta, and Thomas Mooney.
Tom was amazed at his sudden promotion to high office, and insisted on resigning in favour of a man of better education.
Norman caught his big h.o.r.n.y hand and pressed it.
”Not on your life, Tom. You've made a hit. The people like your hard horse-sense. You will make a good judge. Besides, I need you. You're a man I can depend on every day in the year.”
”I'll stick ef you need me, boy--but I hain't fitten, I tell ye.”
”I'll vouch for your fitness--sit down!”
The last command Norman thundered into Tom's ears in imitation of his order to the poet, and the old miner, with a grin, dropped into his seat.
As Norman was about to declare the meeting adjourned, the steward ascended the platform and whispered a message.
The young leader turned to the crowd and lifted his hand for silence.
”Comrades, a prosaic but very important announcement I have to make. I have just been informed that there is no milk for supper. The cows have been neglected. They must be milked. I call for a dozen volunteer milkmaids until this adjustment can be made. Come, now!--and a dozen young men to a.s.sist them. Let's make this a test of your loyalty to the cause. All labour is equally honourable. Labour is the service of your fellow man. Who will be the first heroine to fill this breach in the walls of our defence?”
Barbara sprang forward, with uplifted head, laughing.
”I will!”
”And I'll help you!” Norman cried, with a laugh. ”Who will join us now? Come, you pretty chorus-girls! You wouldn't mind if you carried these milk-pails on the stage in a play. Well, this is the biggest stage you will ever appear on, and all the millions of the civilized world are watching.”
A pretty, rosy-cheeked girl joined Barbara.
An admirer followed, and in a moment a dozen girls and their escorts had volunteered. They formed in line and marched to the cow lot with Norman and Barbara leading, singing and laughing and swinging their milk-pails like a crowd of rollicking children.
When they reached the pasture where the cows were herded, Norman asked Barbara, with some misgivings:
”Honestly, did you ever milk a cow?”
”Of course I have,” she promptly replied. ”I spent two years on a farm once. Do you think I'd make a fool of myself trying before all these kids if I hadn't?”
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