“That means that he—?” She looked inquiringly at her husband.
“That means he has passed both physical and mental examinations and has been regularly sworn in to Uncle Sam’s service.”
“But I thought he was just going to the Naval Academy–why does he have to be sworn in as if he were enlisting?”
“Because he, practically, has enlisted. He enters the government service when he enters the academy, and he simply takes his oath of allegiance.”
Mrs. Morton’s questioning was interrupted by the entrance of Sherm, Frank, and Marian, who came in demanding news.
“Don’t worry, Mother,” said Frank, patting her shoulder, “your precious lamb is in good hands. He’ll be back next September such a dude the family won’t know how to behave in his presence.” Frank couldn’t resist teasing even when he tried to comfort.
277Mrs. Morton sighed. “A great many things can happen in a year.”
“Yes, Mother dear, they can, but most always they don’t. The only things you can depend on are bad weather and work.”
A letter soon followed the telegram, giving details of the examinations, and a glimpse of Ernest’s new life, which comforted his mother, because he was forming punctual habits and had to go regularly to chapel whether he wished to or not. He had met Carol unexpectedly, to their mutual joy. “He’s an awfully handsome chap–knows it, too, but I think he has too much sense to let it spoil him. It’s jolly to have some one I know here,” Ernest wrote.
School began for Chicken Little at the little brown schoolhouse a mile distant, on the fifteenth of September. Chicken Little and the whole Morton family rejoiced, for she had been a most dissatisfied young person of late. Her mother watched her walk away down the lane, immaculate in her new flower-bordered calico, lunch basket in hand, with positive thankfulness.