Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
"Aint it queer, now," he said that evening of his return, as
he sat warming his hands before the blaze, "aint it queer that
those two fellows should go in like that -- one Junior and
t'other Sophomore, and when they've had no chance at all
beforehand, you may say. Will has been a little better, to be
sure; but how on earth Winthrop ever prepared himself I can't
imagine. Why the fellow read off Greek there, and I didn't
know he had ever seen a word of it."
"He used to learn up in his room o' nights, father," said
Asahel.
"He used to carry his books to the field and study while the
oxen were resting," said Winifred.
"He did! -- Well, _he'll_ get along. I aint afeard of him. He
won't be the last man in the College, I guess."
"I guess not, father," said Asahel.
And now the months sped along with slow step, bringing toil-
work for every day. It was cheerfully taken, and patiently
wrought through; both at Shagarack and in the little valley at
home; but those were doing for themselves, and these were
truly doing love's work, for them. All was for them. The crops
were grown and the sheep sheared, that Rufus and Winthrop
might, not eat and be clothed, -- that was a trifle, -- but have
the full good of a College education. The burden and the joy
of the toilers was the same. There were delightful
speculations round the fireside about the professions the
young men would choose; what profound lawyers, what brilliant
ministers, should come forth from the learned groves of
Shagarack; perhaps, the father hinted, -- statesmen. There were
letters from both the boys, to be read and re-read, and loved
and prided in, as once those of Rufus. And clothes came home
to mend, and new and nice knitted socks went now and then to
replace the worn ones; but that commerce was not frequent nor
large; where there was so little to make, it was of necessity
that there should not be too much to mend; and alas! if shirt-
bosoms gave out, the boys buttoned their coats over them and
studied the harder. There were wants they did not tell; those
that were guessed at, they knew, cost many a strain at home;
and were not all met then. But they had not gone to Shagarack
to be' smart,' -- except mentally. That they were.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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