“I’d like to call a little meetin’ here,” said Ezra to the teacher. “Seein’ we’ve busted up your program so far, may we take a little while longer?”
“Certainly,” said Jim. “The school will please come to order.”
The pupils took their seats, straightened their books and papers, and were at attention. Doctor Brathwayt nodded approvingly as if at the answer to some question in his mind.
“Children,” said Mr. Irwin, “you may or may not be interested in what these gentlemen are about to do—but I hope you are. Those who wish may be members of Mr. Bronson’s meeting. Those who do not prefer to do so may take up their regular work.”
“Gentlemen,” said Mr. Bronson to the remains of Mr. Carmichael’s creamery party, “we’ve been cutting bait in this neighborhood about long enough. I’m in favor of fishing, now. It would have been the biggest disgrace ever put on this district to have been swindled by that sharper, when the man that could have set us right on the subject was right here working for us, and we never let him have a chance. And yet that’s what we pretty near did. How many here favor building a cooperative creamery if we can get the farmers in with cows enough to make it profitable, and the equipment at the right price?”
Each man held up a hand.
“Here’s one of our best farmers not voting,” said Mr. Bronson, indicating Raymond Simms. “How about you, Raymond?”
“Ah reckon paw’ll come in,” said Raymond blushingly.
“He will if you say so,” said Mr. Bronson.
Raymond’s hand went up amid a ripple of applause from the pupils, who seemed glad to have a voter in their ranks.