Eric, or, Little by Little

Eric, by Frederic William Farrar

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Title: Eric
Author: Frederic William Farrar
Release Date: April 19, 2004 [EBook #12083]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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ERIC
OR, LITTLE BY LITTLE
A TALE OF ROSLYN SCHOOL
By
FREDERIC W. FARRAR, D.D.
Author of "The Life of Christ," "Julian Home," "St. Winifreds," etc
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
GEORGE A. TRAVER
1902

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I
--CHILDHOOD">
PART I
CHAPTER I
--CHILDHOOD

CHAPTER II
--A NEW HOME
CHAPTER III
--BULLYING
CHAPTER IV
--CRIBBING
CHAPTER V
--THE SECOND TERM
CHAPTER VI
--HOME AFFECTIONS
CHAPTER VII
--ERIC A BOARDER
CHAPTER VIII
--"TAKING UP"
CHAPTER IX
--"DEAD FLIES," OR "YE SHALL BE AS GODS"
CHAPTER X
--DORMITORY LIFE
CHAPTER XI
--ERIC IN COVENTRY
CHAPTER XII
--THE TRIAL
CHAPTER XIII
--THE ADVENTURE AT THE STACK
CHAPTER XIV
--THE SILVER CORD BROKEN
CHAPTER XV
--HOME AGAIN

CHAPTER I
--ABDIEL">
PART II
CHAPTER I
--ABDIEL

CHAPTER II
--WILDNEY
CHAPTER III
--THE JOLLY HERRING
CHAPTER IV
--MR. ROSE AND BRIGSON
CHAPTER V
--RIPPLES
CHAPTER VI
--ERIC AND MONTAGU
CHAPTER VII
--THE PIGEONS
CHAPTER VIII
--SOWING THE WIND
CHAPTER IX
--WHOM THE GODS LOVE DIE YOUNG
CHAPTER X
--THE LAST TEMPTATION
CHAPTER XI
--REAPING THE WHIRLWIND
CHAPTER XII
--THE STORMY PETREL
CHAPTER XIII
--HOME AT LAST
CHAPTER XIV
--CONCLUSION
ILLUSTRATIONS
BULLYING ERIC Vignette on title-page SMOKING ON THE ROCK OUT OF THE WINDOW ERIC AND VERNON HIDING ERIC ESCAPING FROM THE SHIP Frontispiece

ERIC: OR, LITTLE BY LITTLE
PART 1
CHAPTER I
CHILDHOOD
"Ah dear delights, that o'er my soul On memory's wing like shadows fly! Ah flowers that Joy from Eden stole, While Innocence stood laughing by."--COLERIDGE.
"Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" cried a young boy, as he capered vigorously about, and clapped his hands. "Papa and mamma will be home in a week now, and then we shall stay here a little time, and then, and then, I shall go to school."
The last words were enunciated with immense importance, as he stopped his impromptu dance before the chair where his sober cousin Fanny was patiently working at her crochet; but she did not look so much affected by the announcement as the boy seemed to demand, so he again exclaimed, "And then, Miss Fanny, I shall go to school."
"Well, Eric," said Fanny, raising her matter-of-fact quiet face from her endless work, "I doubt, dear, whether you will talk of it with quite as much joy a year hence."
"O ay, Fanny, that's just like you to say so; you're always talking and prophesying; but never mind, I'm going to school, so hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!" and he again began his capering,--jumping over the chairs, trying to vault the tables, singing and dancing with an exuberance of delight, till, catching a sudden sight of his little spaniel Flo, he sprang through the open window into the garden, and disappeared behind the trees of the shrubbery; but Fanny still heard his clear, ringing, silvery laughter, as he continued his games in the summer air.
She looked up from her work after he had gone, and sighed. In spite of the sunshine and balm of the bright weather, a sense of heaviness and foreboding oppressed her. Everything looked smiling and beautiful, and there was an almost irresistible contagion in the mirth of her young cousin, but still she could not help feeling sad. It was not merely that she would have to part with Eric, "but that bright boy," thought Fanny, "what will become of him? I have heard strange things of schools; oh, if he should be spoilt and ruined, what misery it would be. Those baby lips, that pure young heart, a year may work sad change in their words and thoughts!" She sighed again, and her eyes glistened as she raised them upwards, and breathed a silent prayer.
She loved the boy dearly, and had taught him from his earliest years. In most things she found him an apt pupil. Truthful, ingenuous, quick, he would acquire almost without effort any subject that interested him, and a word was often enough to bring the impetuous blood to his cheeks, in a flush, of pride or indignation. He required the gentlest teaching, and had received it, while his mind seemed cast in such a mould of stainless honor that he avoided most of the faults to which children are prone. But he was far from blameless. He was proud to a fault; he well knew that few of his fellows had gifts like his, either of mind or person, and his fair face often showed a clear impression of his own superiority. His passion, too, was imperious, and though it always met with prompt correction, his cousin had latterly found it difficult to subdue. She felt, in a word, that he was outgrowing her rule. Beyond a certain age no boy of spirit can be safely guided by a woman's hand alone.
Eric Williams was now twelve years old. His father was a civilian in India, and was