From the Improvement Era, July 1933 –

Farmer Gone Wrong

By Ralph H. Olson

Someone says ‘out in the country on a farm’ and we think of freshness and fragrance, clear air and wild flowers, and hay fever. Just let it stand as it is. That is a better picture of Sadie Ross than we could have painted if we had started with her first.

She was born and reared a farmer and for all her sweetness and fairness, her freshness and fragrance, we must not make the tempting mistake of calling her a popular girl. Sadie’s only fault seemed to be her chatter. She insisted on doing all the talking for everybody.

When there was nothing important to say, which was most of the time, she literally stuffed this otherwise pleasant pause with stories of the Ross homestead. Her friends soon learned through repetition all there was to know about farming, and began to make excuses to leave whenever Sadie arrived. She was vaguely conscious of this increasing coolness but could never stop talking long enough to realize her mistake.

Her lonesomeness was increased because she was forced to enter college two years behind the class she had known in high school, having stayed at home so that their sister, Clara, might go through business college and then help the others through. Clara thanked them by getting married and moving out of the state. Sadie left for the State University the next fall with high hopes and little money. Both of which were soon blasted.

Most of her ideas about college had been gleaned from stories she had read in Campus Life, and like most story book ideas, when brought in contact with the real thing, were shown to be a total bust. That was the word they used anyway.

During that fall term she was asked out four times by four different boys. Each time she was sure they wouldn’t come back, and they didn’t. Sadie didn’t know just why. After each of these events she would bury herself in her work. Her marks soon became the talk of the class and she was envied by girls whom she envied. The boys she didn’t like called her brainy; the boys she liked called her dumb. Now just where is the consistency in that? Then one Friday afternoon at the beginning of the spring term something happened. It always does if you live long enough.

Blanche, her roomie, came up the stairs and into the room displaying some of that agility used by people finding shelter during air raids:

“Get into something in a hurry! We can’t wait for a thing. You have a date with Bill’s friend whether you like it or not. We’re going over to Center for the tennis matches and then to dinner. Yes, that’s good enough. Come on.”

They went down the stairs two at a time. Blanche, wearing one of those will-he-like-it-or-will-he-not expressions so commonly worn by Freshmen girls with a blind date in tow, pulled Sadie out to the car.

“Sadie, let me present Bill and his friend, Mr. Nevet. They call her “Brains” when they want some notes or the right answer.”

They all smiled and Bill said, “Let’s get in, or we’ll miss the first match.”

When they were seated and on the way, Lowell, as his name turned out to be, began, “I’m sorry we didn’t know about this sooner; but Bill brought me with as much warning as you had, I hope you didn’t mind.”

“I liked it,” she said, “I was wishing for something like this ever since lunch.”

“Tell me about yourself.” (Mr. Nevet should have known better than that.)

“Nothing to tell. What about you?” (Wise girl! A good start, but beware!)

“Go ahead. I’m interested in people.” That opening given once to a farmer is a mistake, twice is a blunder which will never be passed up.

Sadie talked. She let down the bars of her homesickness and talked on and on. It was good for her while it lasted but these things never last, although Mr. Nevet began to wonder. She told him about home, the family, the secrets, and about everything except the things that might interest anyone but herself.

Lowell Nevet listened to all this rustic, homespun patter with a polite, sophisticated boredom. It was the thing to do, to be polite and sophisticated and bored, besides, this corn-fed mama, was a bit refreshing after the campus babies he knew, all of whom said the same things and acted like anybody but themselves.

When they were home and alone Blanche said. “Well?”

“I think he’s swell. He’s not a bit like the other boys around here. I wonder how I made the grade?”

“Bill seems to think he had a good time. I’m glad you liked it; you’ve been working too hard. We might go out a lot; it’s lots more fun with four.”

As they were getting in bed Blanche hazarded, “What did you talk about? You seemed to be pretty well wound up every time I saw you.”

“Oh everything. I guess I did most of the talking, but he didn’t seem to mind. I’d like to ask him to the class dance next week end. Are you taking Bill?”

“Yes, I asked Bill if Lowell would be busy and he said he didn’t think so. I’ll get Bill to ask him if you like.”

“Like? I’d love it.”

They went to the dance. Sadie talked again. Mr. Nevet talked a little. It seemed he was not in school that term, he was working for an advertising agency in town.

After the dance they went for a long ride, finally landing at some lunch room by the car barns for scrambled eggs. At the sight of the eggs Sadie was reminded of another story about the hay stack. Mr. Nevet listened and ate; Blanche coughed; Bill sighed, ever so slightly.

On their way home Sadie made up her mind that this must be love, and she told Blanche about it when they were alone. Blanche was silent and then said: “Not so fast! Not so fast! Been out with him twice and known him a week.”

“I don’t care. I like him, and I’ll bet he knows it. He knows everything else.”

Blanche suggested that she sleep it off.

The next morning Blanche’s brother, Peter Rowley, came to eat the cake that Mrs. Rowley had sent to Blanche and Sadie. Pete was what is known by young people as a good egg. Not too good to look at and not too bad, not too bright, but bright enough. He was a senior.

“I hear you babes are going out with Bill and Doo Dad Nevet,” Pete offered between pieces of cake.

“Doo Dad? Why the Doo Dad?” asked Blanche.

“I dunno. Why the Pete, when the folks named me Hubert? All the same principle. I still think it’s funny what dames will pick up with once they break the home ties.”

“You at least can’t call those boys cake eaters,” put in Blanche. That may not have been the best answer but it saved the rest of the cake

“Go roll your dough,” said Pete through the last mouthful.

“Well, I’ll see you in the next bonus march.

“Someone came and sat on the other side of the palm, A girl was saying something.’^

“Thanks for the cake. Come and see us some time.”

When Pete had gone, Blanche made excuses for the amount of cake he could eat and the way he acted in general. They finished up the morning talking about “the things girls pick up with once they break the home ties.”

The next week Bill invited them all down to his home. There wasn’t much to do but swim in the hot plunge. Sadie didn’t play bridge and didn’t play tennis and didn’t do much of anything but talk. So Sadie and Lowell went for a hike ; this she did almost too well for him. By this time she was sure it was love. They sat down where they could see the changes spring was bringing to the whole valley. Just the place to make farmer girls say the wrong thing.

They talked about how beautiful the hills were and Sadie said they reminded her of the farm. Lowell changed the subject to friendships and Sadie got herself all tangled up and blurted out that she loved him before she knew what she had done.

Lowell said that he liked her a lot and didn’t they think they should be getting back. All in all the afternoon turned out to be what is known by younger people as a damp smack.

When they got back it was time to pack. Sadie felt bad. Life has never been very fair to farmers, take the farm board and all. On the way home Lowell asked her to a Country Club dance. After she had accepted she realized it was the first time he had ever asked her out and that she had already told him she loved him. She tried to think up things to say to put him at ease and found she couldn’t. She wondered why he had asked her.

The next morning she felt as she did after all her other experiences since she came to school. She went at the books with that grim determination that lumberjacks go for the tall timber. She knocked an “A” out of Business English and a few more marks and began to feel better. By the end of the week she felt right nice and by Saturday afternoon she felt that college was a swell place even for farmers.

Her first formal! She and Blanche had been over a few things about the why and why nots of formal action a number of times. Bill had asked Blanche to go and all in all, well.

Sadie was dazzled from the time Bill’s car first hit the fine gravel in the Country Club lane. So many big cars’. So many lights! So many pretty party dresses! The men all so black and white and correct! This was the life she had read about. These were the people she would mingle with when she had her degree. Sadie Ross was surely being born.

They moved from the cloak rooms out into the ballroom. Sadie lost her sense of detail, being only able to take all this loveliness in as a picture, complete. They danced. They traded one with Bill and Blanche. They danced again and then some voice she had heard from somewhere was speaking to Lowell:

“If it’s in order here, Mr. Nevet, I could use this lassie for two or three turns around the hay loft.” Pete Rowley was taking her away from Lowell and they were dancing on with about as much ceremony as a new horse takes up the pony express.

“What are you doing here my pretty maid? And you don’t have any cake out in your coat do you?”

“Said the pieman to Simple Simon, indeed I haven’t any,” she said smartly.

“Well, strike me tepid if the rurals aren’t picking up something besides Greek and Latin at last! A wise crack! Like a bolt from the blue! I repeat, strike me tepid.”

That seemed to hold him for a minute and gave Sadie a chance to ask how he liked it, and where was his girl.

He said that he might tell the pieman that he didn’t have any, indeed; but that he’d let it go and write her a card.

“Don’t you think it’s hot in here?” he said after a little. “Let’s get some air. Not a word please, I said air and its air I want.”

Sadie took his arm and said that it must be an inter- mission anyway. They went out on the stone terrace and sat down by a large potted palm. The night was so pretty that they just sat. Air was what he said he wanted anyway. Someone came and sat on the other side of the palm. A girl was saying something.

“And just what is the game, this time?” She was no one Sadie knew.

“She’s Blanche’s friend,” the boy answered; “and at first it was just one of those things.” Sadie opened her mouth to say something. The boy was Lowell. Pete pulled her back in silence; Lowell continued talking: “I’ve been out with bores in my time but this one I’ve been roped in on takes all the prizes. Tonight will wind it up, though. I’ve paid off all my obligations. I am glad you came along, I was on the verge of a breakdown and to make matters worse the sweet thing seems to think she’s love sick about me. Can you beat it?”

Sadie jumped up with Pete after her. Thank heaven they couldn’t see her. Pete just held tightly to her arm and pulled her in through the door. When they were inside all he said was, “I’m sorry, kid.”

She didn’t speak. She couldn’t trust her voice. Her eyes were filling up; she wouldn’t be able to see in a minute. “Take me home, will you, Pete?”

“Sure, sister,” said Pete quickly, “and then I’ll come back and ask that snake for his front teeth.”

They were at the cloak room. “Pete, promise me you won’t make any trouble. There’s Blanche over there; go and tell her something or other. I’ll be walking out; she can’t see me like this.”

Pete went over. “Don’t ask any questions. I gotta take What’s-her-name home. Tell Doo Dad that she had the nose bleed and we couldn’t find him. Tell him it’s all right. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow,” and he was gone.

They rode home in silence. Sadie made no pretense at not letting him see her cry. They got home and into the lower hall. Mrs. Billings came out in a dressing gown and said that they had been trying to get Miss Ross on long distance all evening.

Pete patted her shoulder and smiled and left. Sadie went to the phone. Yes, this was Miss Ross. “My father! Yes, I can come tonight.” She ran after Pete. Sure, he would take her to the train, anything serious? He would wait downstairs. She had twenty minutes.

Mr. Ross died before Sadie got home. They were all dazed. He had been working on the farm Thursday afternoon. People came, and everybody was kind. Lowell Nevet sent the proper telegram. Blanche came down. Sadie went through all this with a kind of numbed detachment.

She stayed home two weeks. It was decided she should go back and finish out the year. Mrs. Ross was going to sell the farm and live with her sister. All this would work out all right.

Sadie went back. She didn’t see Lowell Nevet again that year. He had been transferred to the San Francisco office. She didn’t go out again, but went back to her old cure for all ills — work; but deep down inside under the hurt of that last night, under all the trouble, an idea was forming.

That summer Sadie refused the help of relatives for the completion of college. She would go into San Francisco to business college and then if she could make her own way she would like to finish up and get her degree.

She went at this school with the same grim determination she had gone at the last one. Only a little while now and she would be able to try for a job.

One afternoon she went down to put on her hat and saw through the mirror the grinning face of Pete Rowley.

“Hi, sister. Let’s go buy a cake. I gotta plan.”

“Pete Rowley! Where did you come from? Is Blanche here?”

“Naw, she wrote me you were here and to see how you were making out, and here I am, just like you’d been rubbing a lamp.”

They were walking out. “How you been? Blanche says you two still write a lot.”

“Fine. It’s a pleasure to see you Pete. Even you.”

“Come now Jezabel, be kind,” Pete said and then added, “how long before you’ll be through? Maybe I can get a little work for you and maybe a job. Where we going? Are we after a cake or are we going to play croquet?

“If you really want some cake, come over to my place. My mother sent me one.”

Pete’s face lit up. “I knew it! I could smell home cooking all morning.”

They talked and walked and got home and ate cake and talked some more. Pete did most of both the eating and the talking. His boss, yes, he was actually working, was writing a book. That is, his name would be on it. It was one of those scientific things and Pete was collecting all the material.

When he got up to go he said carelessly, “Ever see Doo Dad Nevet? He’s here, you know.”

She smiled, “No, but I’d like to, some dark night.”

He smiled back and told her to keep her neck clean and let him know when she was through kindergarten.

The time sped by, leaving only one more week to go. The school said she had made a wonderful record and they would try to help place her. Then Pete called.

“This is it, isn’t it? Have you got your white graduation dress made?”

“Hello, Pete,” she said, “Yes, I’ll be through Monday.”

“Well, it’s about time. I’m m a rush, so take this dictation. You’ll get used to the phrase. Come down to 38 Market at 3:30 Monday and enter into the world of business.”

He went on, not giving her a chance. “It’s only part time but that’s better for a starter. All O.K. ? No, thanks, it’s a favor to me. Goodbye, don’t pick up any colic, it’s going around,” and he hung up.

She went down Monday and Pete met her at the door. There were three nice offices. She met his boss. He nodded to Pete and went out. Pete told her there was nothing to do but do as he told her which, he added, would be a pleasure on his part. He said she could start in the morning, and then added, “Let’s go eat. I got other plans still, and I want lots of props for this act.”

They found a place and Bill started right in. “Now don’t interrupt me until I’ve finished, not even for cake. I’m old enough to say all this and still have it in the rules, besides I’m sorta in the family in a way. Now here’s the thing. After that dance up at the club I started to think. Don’t ask me what I used for brains ’cause I’m serious for once. I wondered why a boy would say the things he did about you, even taking into account what a flat one he is. You’re smart; you have natural possibilities in looks aplenty. Not a word, let me go on while it burns me. I came to the only possible answer. You had been raised a little differently from the way we had. I don’t say our way was best; but you’re living among us now and you know the old Chinese saying, ‘When in Rome do you see many Roman noses?’ Well, to make all this blunt and sharp, I’ve taken on myself the side of your education which you never thought was important. I’m doing it as revenge on Doo Dad, since you wouldn’t let me bust him one when he needed it. If you like it just nod and let me finish.” She nodded. “Well, my cousin Kay Wilson, maybe Blanche has told you about her, is a designer for one of the smartest shops in San Francisco. She’s to be the new Dean of Women. She is of the best in every way and has heard all about you through me and Blanche, and what’s more she liked the idea and has sworn to secrecy. You’re not even to wash your neck without her advice.

“Now, for example here are a few things I suggest. Don’t be in such a rush about everything. That walk of yours will never do. You aren’t jumping mud puddles on Market Street. The only mud in this town is up at the Civic center in the city offices. Let men do the talking. Always think twice before you say anything. Your mind is one-hundred percent, but your tongue is always in head of it when you get out. You promised not to be hurt, so smile.” He talked on and on.

That night Sadie Ross was so bewildered at all that had transpired that she fell right off into the untroubled sleep of utter exhaustion.

Weeks passed. She met Kay Wilson and liked her. Sadie went through this school as she had gone through the other two. The results were amazing, even to Sadie Ross, who was now Rosalyn Ross, after her mother. The work she did at the office came easy and she was well liked. She started to go out to parties, to hotel dances, and then up a step to the operas and musical shows and symphony concerts. Sadie Rosalyn Ross; she didn’t even know herself at times. She became more self confident in time and even ventured to put forth some of her ideas and convictions out in public, always in a quiet, cool, unruffled voice. Never views on farming.

When anyone asked her who she was and from whence she came, she smiled and said, “I’m a farmer gone wrong.” Everybody laughed and nobody believed her. In the old days when she tried to hide the straw in her makeup everybody knew she was a farmer. She laughed and wondered about it all.

Jay knew where to buy the smartest things at the lowest possible prices; knew what to wear to bring out one’s best points; knew all the beauty treatments. She had taste and judgment and seemed to take delight in using her knowledge on Rosalyn Ross. Then one afternoon Rosalyn made her biggest stride of all.

Pete came in out of breath as usual and said she was fired. He said that she had a job, a real one, working in the offices of Barrett and Mose Construction Co. Pete took her down the next morning and she started to work the next day.

That night she called him and said that he would have to stop doing things for her. She would soon be so far in his debt that she would never get out. Pete told her she was a little out of character to gush and to forget it. He asked if it was cake he could smell over the phone.

For the first three weeks she did just as the business college ads said their graduates would do. Mr. Barrett’s secretary came down the row of desks and asked Rosalyn to come into her office. She said she had to leave town but that Mr. Barrett wanted a report on a new building. The list of material wanted was on this paper. Here were most of the places she could find the stuff. Yes, she could use this office. And the secretary was gone.

Rosalyn looked at the list. She looked at the references and looked at the books. Here was something she could do and do well, so she plowed in. She made notes, called up a man, made more notes, went to see a company, made more notes, and worked until eight o’clock. Next morning the office was buzzing with excitement. The secretary had run off and got married. Gone. All the girls wondered.

Mr. Barrett came out of his office and asked who R. R. was. Sadie said she was. He wanted to see her. “You’re Miss Ross I believe?”

“Yes.”

“You came here on a very good recommendation. I like your work.” He went on. “This report, did you do it all?”

Sadie nodded, “Yes.”

“It isn’t exactly what I wanted but that isn’t important. What I like is the effort. It’s more than I am used to around here. How would you like a try at a secretaryship?”

“I would like it if I were sure I could handle it.”

“Fine,” he said; “you can start today. We can make the salary arrangements when Mr. Mose gets back.”

Sadie went at it as she did everything else. In three weeks Mr. Barrett admitted that he didn’t know how he had gotten along before she came. She met Mrs. Barrett and went out with them for dinner. Mrs. Barrett even liked her, and when a farmer can do all that in a month it’s time the sons of the soil were called something besides green.

Mr. Barrett started leaving small items in the business for her to handle in her own way.

A week later she was working at her desk when the buzzer sounded. She lifted the receiver.

“A man to see me about some advertising. If you are not busy I’ll let you handle it. I’ll send him in.” No more warning than that. She looked up and there stood Doo Dad Lowell Nevet as big as life.

Just for a minute, ever such a short one, all the old panic returned. She was Sadie Ross again and wanted to talk and babble to cover her embarrassment. But only for ever such a short minute. She kept still and smiled and slowly began to realize that she was really seeing him for the first time, his pink baby skin and weak chin. She smiled again and liked the situation even better. Here was this monkey who had caused her a bucket of tears, and he wanted something. She thought, they write stories for moments like this. Then he spoke:

“Sadie Ross! Well lay me low.”

She wanted to call him Doo Dad, but thought better of it.

“Hello, Lowell.”

He laughed, “I came in here for something but you sort of took my breath — that is — you’re thinner aren’t you?”

The fool, he was blushing!

“Can’t we go and have some lunch some place and talk? It’s surely good to see you.”

“Yes, right now if you like.”

He helped her on with her coat.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I love fish,” she answered, “San Francisco is full of them.” She glanced at him to see if it struck, but he still beamed.

Across the table at Bernstein’s he began again. “Now tell me all about yourself. What’s happened?”

This time she recognized the farmer’s pitfall so easily. “It wouldn’t interest you, Lowell. I’m just another farmer gone wrong. What are your chief hopes and worries?”

He said, “My worries are the depression and my hopes are business. The hopes are plenty slim.”

They ate and talked and she actually enjoyed it, she felt so completely master of a situation once so baffling. Let him talk, he would get to it himself soon enough. Finally he said, “My company seems to think they could handle your advertising account for a lot less money than the Andrews people and do a lot better job in the bargain.” He took a folder out of his pocket and began in earnest. She wasn’t listening.

“Lowell.” He stopped talking and looked up in the middle of his strongest selling point, surprised at the tone in her voice. “I heard what you told that girl at the club the night my father died.” She saw the color drain from his face. “You see, I’m not a competent judge of the merits of your sales talk. I’ll give you a fair break, however, for the nice times you showed a green farmer’s daughter. I’ll tell Barrett I would rather he made up his mind about this himself. This winds it up. I’ve paid off my obligations and I’ll pay my own check.”

He started to say something. He was never sure what it was. She had gone.

Sadie ditched down a back alley to shed a few tears for being so nasty before she called Pete’s office from a corner drug store.

“Hello, that you Sadie? Did you give him both barrels?”

“How did you know, Pete?”

“I sent him down there, the squirt. He had it coming to him. I knew there would never be any hope for me until you had given him the works. I’ve been like this all along. Blanche knows it; Kay knows it; and now you know it, and if you just say the word, the whole town can know it.”

Sadie Rosalyn Ross laughed. “I had hoped for this a long time and wondered how long it would take me. I’m down at a corner drug store. If I had known you were coming I’d have baked a cake.”

Pete Hubert Rowley laughed. “You’re right in there, Gretchen. Where is this drug store?”

Pete was a good egg. That’s a good ending for a story about a farmer, I guess.