JUNIOR KING’S BUSINESS
O N A BRIGHT JULY DAY, Mrs. James was hanging out clothes in the back yard of the attractive, ram bling, eight-room house which was home to her, her doctor-husband, her thirteen-year-old son and nine-year- old daughter. “Why put clothes in a stuffy dry er,” she said to herself as she pinned snowy sheets on the line, “when there is such glorious sunshine and fresh air outside?” It was nice to have the children home all day and to enjoy with them a leisurely sum mer. Only her husband could never “ take it easy.” A conscientious “G.P.,” he was on call twenty-four hours a day. It was hard to plan any kind of trip or to depend upon his being home at any given time. Mrs. James sighed as she reflected that sickness was no respecter of fami lies. At that moment Jimmy appeared, munching a piece of toast. His moth er fondly surveyed her tall, lanky, blond son, with the crew-cut hair and the brilliant blue eyes. “ Truly as blue as the sky,” she thought, al though she dared not express any admiration, for to Jimmy his looks were a matter of complete indif ference. Fortunately, this did not apply to his school work for he was an honor student or to his interest in music. He was already an out standing trumpet player. “Well,” said Mrs. James, amiably, “ has your majesty decided to get up and join the human race?” “You mean the rat race!” replied the boy, swallowing the last bite. His mother smiled, “Well, your own particular rat race is just about to begin with that front lawn to mow,” she announced promptly. 38
“Wouldn’t you know it?” groaned Jimmy, “when school is out and you think you are through with slavery for a while, more work is waiting for you around the corner?” “Well, that’s life, my boy,” said his mother. “ There is no rest for the wicked or for the good either. Think of your father.” “Yeah, how about Dad? He works day and night. Boy, I’m not going to be like that, believe me.” “What do you mean, Jim? Aren’t you going to be a doctor like your father? You’ve talked of noth ing else since you were a little fel low.” Jim looked a bit uncomfortable. “ I know, Mom, but lately I’ve been thinking that Dad does not get much out of life. We can never go any where with him. It would be differ ent if he had gone in for research and was really a great man, discov ering some cures or something.” “ I think there is a greatness in helping people, Jim.” “Yeah, Mom, but a lot of those people don’t even pay their bills. I want to make a lot of money and make it easy for all of you.” Then, boy-like, Jim changed the subject suddenly. “ Mom, why did you ever give me two first names? James James! It sounds like one of those fancy Eng lish double names. Don’t you and Dad have any imagination? With names like Hank, and Bill, and Lou lying around, you had to repeat our surname. Why, even the dictionary is full of boys’ names!” One of the nicest things about Laura James was her ringing laugh. “You can be thankful, my boy, that you didn’t get your grandfather’s
full name: James Jamerson James! Besides, whoever calls you anything but Jimmy or Jim? But why this sudden interest in your name?” “ I have been thinking about how my name would sound if I ever be came a great man.” Jim, picking up the empty plastic clothes basket, walked with his mother to the house for another load of laundry. “ Jim,” she said seriously, “ do you know what Shakespeare said about names: ‘What’s in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet’ ?” “Yeah, Mom, I’ve heard it at school. But does a petunia have much of a scent?” Before she could pro test, he continued: “ I get the idea. It isn’t the name but what you make of it that counts. Well, I’ll try to make the name of James great. How does President James James grab you, just for a start?” Mrs. James laughed heartily. “ I hope that he would say, ‘appeal to you,’ and not ‘grab you,’ ” she said, “ but on the way to greatness, will you stop at the lawn and do some thing about that grass?” As Jim set down another basketful of wet clothes for his mother to hang out, Terry appeared, with jam on her face, and her huge white Per sian, Kitty Bibbs, cuddled in her arms. The big cat had been so named because of the black circle about her neck. Jim turned to his sister: “ How about helping me pick up the yard before I cut the grass?” “ Okay,” replied the pretty, plump girl, with eyes as brown as Jim’s were blue. Then with a shake of her pony-tail, sister-like, she bargained: “ If you’ll let me watch the baseball game this afternoon.” Jimmy agreed, T H E K IN G 'S B U SIN E SS
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