“I’ll come,” said he.
“Thank you,” said the Ames man, “There’s a small honorarium attached, you know.”
Jim was staggered. What was an honorarium? He tried to remember what an honorarium is, and could get no further than the thought that it is in some way connected with the Latin root of “honor.” Was he obliged to pay an honorarium for the chance to speak before the college gathering? Well, he’d save money and pay it. The professor must be able to understand that it couldn’t be expected that a country school-teacher would be able to pay much.
“I—I’ll try to take care of the honorarium,” said he. “I’ll come.”
The professor laughed. It was the first joke the gangling innovator had perpetrated.
“It won’t bother you to take care of it,” said he, “but if you’re not too extravagant it will pay you your expenses and give you a few dollars over.”
Jim breathed more freely. An honorarium was paid to the person receiving the honor, then. What a relief!
“All right,” he exclaimed. “I’ll be glad to come!”
“Let’s consider that settled,” said the professor. “And now I must be going back to the opera-house. My talk on soil sickness comes next. I tell you, the winter wheat crop has been—”
But Jim was not able to think much of the winter wheat problem as they went back to the auditorium. He was worth putting on the program at a state meeting! He was worth the appreciation of a college professor, trained to think on the very matters Jim had been so long mulling over in isolation and blindness! He was actually worth paying for his thoughts.