Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhymeChild, Lydia Maria
General
Autumnal leaves: tales and sketches in prose and rhyme
Child, Lydia Maria
American essays -- 19th century; American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
The new milk and cheese-whey, the breath of the cows, and the verdure of
the fields, refreshed him, and in some degree restored his exhausted
strength. But now he was fretted with the question, what to do with the
education he had acquired with so much hardship. An additional
expenditure of time and money was required to fit him for either of the
professions. He was not stimulated by any strong preference for either
of them, and his generous soul resisted the idea of taxing his sister’s
strength any further for his own advantage. The old question of his
boyhood returned with additional force. Why should she, with her noble
nature and admirable faculties, be forever penned up within the small
routine of petty cares, and mere mechanical efforts? Why should she not
share his destiny, and enjoy with him a more expansive atmosphere for
soul and body? To this end he resolved to labour. He would earn money by
the readiest means that offered, and devote his earnings to her
improvement. But Esther said, “If you educate me, dear John, what can I
_do_ with my education? I can do nothing but teach school; and for that
I am sure my health is not adequate. The doctor says I must take as much
exercise as possible.”
“The doctor!” exclaimed John. “Why, Esther, you never told me you had
been ill enough to consult a physician.”
“It is merely a slight difficulty in my lungs,” she replied. “I am going
to spin on the great wheel this winter; and I think that will cure me.
Do not trouble your kind heart about me, my dear John. While I have any
health and strength, I will never consent to be a burden upon you,
however much you may urge it. I do not believe that sisters ought to
depend on brothers for support. I am sure it is far better for the
characters of women to rely on their own energies. But sometimes I
think we have not a fair chance in the world. I often wish, as you do,
that it was easy for us to obtain a more liberal education, and
customary to use that education in a freer scope for all our faculties.
But never mind, dear brother, the door of _your_ cage is open, and the
world is all before you. Go where you will, I know you will never forget
the sister, who loves you so dearly. You are destined to go far ahead of
me in life; but your good heart will never allow you to be ashamed of
your poor untutored Esther.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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