Hills of the Shatemuc | Page 7

fancy saw her for a moment in some strange travestie of years and education and circumstances, that was only a flash of fancy -- not dwelt upon. Other thoughts were more near and pressing, though almost as vague. In vain he endeavoured to calculate expenses that he did not know, wants that he could not estimate, difficulties that loomed up with no certain outline, means that were far beyond ken. It was but confusion; except his purpose, clear and steady as the sun, though as yet it lighted not the way but only the distant goal; that was always in sight. And under all these thoughts, little looked at yet fully recognized, his mother's question; and a certain security that she had that which would 'really last.' He knew it. And oddly enough, when he took his candle from her hand that night, Winthrop, though himself no believer unless with head belief, thanked God in his heart that his mother was a Christian.
Gradually the boys disclosed their plan; or rather the elder of the boys; for Winthrop being so much the younger, for the present was content to be silent. But their caution was little needed. Rufus was hardly more ready to go than his parents were to send him, -- if they could; and in their case, as in his, the lack of power was made up by will. Rufus should have an education. He should go to College. Not more cheerfully on his part than on theirs the necessary privations were met, the necessary penalty submitted to. The son should stand on better ground than the father, though the father were himself the stepping-stone that he might reach it.
It had nothing to do with Winthrop, all this. Nothing was said of him. To send one son to College was already a great stretch of effort, and of possibility; to send two was far beyond both. Nobody thought of it. Except the one left out of their thoughts.
The summer passed in the diligent companionship of the oxen and Sam Doolittle. But when the harvests were gathered, and the fall work was pretty well done; the winter grain in the ground, and the November winds rustling the dry leaves from the trees, -- the strongest branch was parted from the family tree, in the hope that it might take root and thrive better on its own stock elsewhere. It was cheerfully done, all round. The father took bravely the added burden with the lessened means; the mother gave her strength and her eyesight to make the needed preparations; and to supply the means for them, all pinched themselves; and Winthrop had laid upon him the threefold charge of his own, his brother's, and his father's duty. For Mr. Landholm had been chosen a member of the State Legislature; and he too would be away from home all winter. What sort of a winter it would be, no one stopped to think, but all were willing to bear.
The morning came of the day before the dreaded Saturday, and no one cared to look at another. It was a relief, though a hated one, to see a neighbour come in. Even that, Winthrop shunned; he was cleaning the harness of the wagon, and he took it out into the broad stoop outside of the kitchen door. His mother and brother and the children soon scattered to other parts of the house.
"So neighbour," said Mr. Underhill, -- "I hear tell one of your sons is goin' off, away from you?"
"Yes," -- said Mr. Landholm, pride and sorrow struggling together in his manner, -- "I believe he is."
"Where's he goin'?"
"To Asphodel -- in the first place."
"Asphodel, eh? -- What's at Asphodel?"
"What do you mean?"
"What's he goin' there for?"
"To pursue his studies -- there's an Academy at Asphodel."
"An Academy. -- Hum. -- And so he's goin' after larnin' is he? And what'll the farmer do without him to hum?"
"Do the best I can -- send for you, neighbour Underhill."
"Ha, ha! -- well, I reckon I've got enough to do to attend to my own."
"I guess you don't do much but fish, do you? -- there under the mountain?"
"Well, you see, I hain't a great deal of ground. You can't run corn straight up a hill, can you? -- without somethin' to stand on?"
"Not very well."
"There be folks that like that kind o' way o' farming -- but I never did myself."
"No, I'll warrant you," said Mr. Landholm, with a little attempt at a laugh.
"Well -- you say there's an Academy at Asphodel; then he aint going to -- a -- what do you call it? -- Collegiate Institution?"
"No, not just yet; by and by he'll go to College, I expect. -- That's what he wants to do."
"And you want it too, I suppose?"
"Yes -- I'll