The Rejuvenation of Aunt Mary | Page 2

want to know. I do wish you'd answer me, Arethusa; there's two
things I've asked you now, an' you suckin' your finger an' puttin' on
your thimble as if you were sittin' alone in China."
"I don't know which costs most," Arethusa shrieked.
"You needn't scream so," said Aunt Mary. "I ain't so hard to hear as
you think. I ain't but seventy, and I'll beg you to remember that,
Arethusa. Besides, I don't want to hear you talk. I just want to hear
about Jack. I'm askin' about his bein' expelled and suspended, an' what's
the difference, an' in particular if there's anything to pay for broken
glass. It's always broken glass! That boy's bills for broken glass have
been somethin' just awful these last two years. Well, why don't you
answer?"
"I don't know what to answer," Arethusa screamed.
"What do you suppose he's done, anyhow?"
"Something bad."
Aunt Mary frowned.
"I ain't mad," she said sharply. "What made you think I was mad? I
ain't mad at all! I'm just askin' what's the difference between bein'
expelled an' bein' suspended, an' it seems to me this is the third time
I've asked it. Seems to me it is."
Arethusa laid down her work, drew a mighty breath, very nearly got
into the ear-trumpet, and explained that being suspended was infinitely
less heinous than being expelled, and decidedly less final.
Aunt Mary looked relieved.

"Oh, then he's gettin' better, is he?" she said. "Well, I'm sure that's some
comfort."
And then there was a long pause, during which she appeared to be
engaged in deep reflection, and her niece continued her embroidery in
peace. The pause endured until a sudden sneeze on the part of the old
lady set the wheels of conversation turning again.
"Arethusa," she said, "I wish you'd go an' get the ink an' write to Mr.
Stebbins. I want him to begin to look up another college with good
references right away. I don't want to waste any of the boy's life, an' if
bein' suspended means waitin' while the college takes its time to
consider whether it wants him back again or not I ain't goin' to wait. I'm
a great believer in a college education, but I don't know that it cuts
much figure whether it's the same college right through or not. Anyway,
you write Mr. Stebbins."
Arethusa obeyed, and the authorities having seen fit to be uncommonly
discreet as to the cause of the young man's withdrawal, no great
difficulty was experienced in finding another campus whereon Aunt
Mary's pride and joy might freely disport himself. Mr. Stebbins threw
himself into the affair with all the tact and ardor of an experienced legal
mind and soon after Lucinda's return to her home allowed Arethusa to
follow suit, the hopeful younger brother of the latter became a
candidate for his second outfit of new sweaters and hat bands that year.
Aunt Mary wrote him a letter upon the occasion of his new start in life,
Mr. Stebbins delivered him a lecture, and things went smoothly in
consequence for three whole weeks. I say three whole weeks because
three whole weeks was a long time for the course of Jack's life to flow
smoothly. At the end of a fortnight affairs were always due to run more
rapidly and three weeks produced, as a general thing, some species of
climax.
The climax in this case came to time as usual his evil genius inciting
the young man to attempt, one very dark night, the shooting of a cat
which he thought he saw upon the back fence. Whether he really had
seen a cat or not mattered very little in the later development of the

matter. He was certainly successful as far as the going off of the gun
was concerned, but the damage that resulted, resulted not to any cat, but
to the arm of a next-door's cook, who was peacefully engaged in taking
in her week's wash on the other side of the fence. The cook ceased
abruptly to take in the wash, the affair was at once what is technically
termed looked into, and three days later Jack became the defendant in a
suit for damages.
Naturally Mr. Stebbins was at once notified and he had no choice
except to write Aunt Mary.
Aunt Mary was somewhat less patient over the third escapade than she
had been with the first two.
The letter found her alone with Lucinda and she read it to herself three
times and then read it aloud to her companion. Lucinda, whose
thorough knowledge of the imperious will and impervious eardrums of
her mistress rendered her, as a rule, extremely monosyllabic, not to say
silent, vouchsafed no comment upon the contents of the epistle, and
after a