Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Schools -- Juvenile fiction
The others had their eyes upon him, and were puzzled to account for
his success. They had made up their minds the previous day that they
would only have to carry on their present tactics for a short time,
and Horace would leave the school in disgust, or else he would be
asked to leave by the head master, and thus Torrington's would be
saved from going to the dogs through this scholarship boy. But this
day's experience of what Horace could do under the terrible ban of
their displeasure puzzled them, and they resolved to watch more
closely, to make sure none of those who were suspected of faltering in
allegiance to the decree of their leaders did not speak to him on
their way home.
But Horace himself did not expect this now. The first bitterness of
the trial had worn off, and as soon as he was beyond the school gate
he set off home at a sharp trot, softly whistling to himself, as he
pondered over what would be the probable effect if a certain acid they
had been using was mixed with another substance entirely different
from anything they had used in that day's experiments.
He whistled and thought, and turned the matter over and over in his
mind, and finally ended by wishing that his mother could afford to
give him pocket-money like most boys had to spend. This cost him a
sigh, as he thought he might as well wish for a slice of the moon at
once as for pocket-money, and by the time he got home he was whistling
to himself again as happily as ever.
When he got in, his mother noticed his eager, animated looks.
'Why, what has happened to make you so merry?' she said, as he threw
up his cap in sheer exuberance of spirits.
'Nothing much, mother; only I have got an idea.'
'Keep it, then, lad--keep it,' said his brother, laughing.
'All right,' said Horace, thinking he should be under no temptation to
part with it, since his schoolfellows would not speak to him. 'It's a
good idea, I know, if I can only find out the way to carry it out,'
added Horace, at which his brother laughed, and his mother remarked
that a good many people had ideas, but the difficulty was to carry
them into effect, so that they were of practical use.
'Oh, it will want a good deal of thinking about, I know; but it has
made me quite decide not to be a carpenter.'
'I thought you had made up your mind about that long ago,' said Fred.
'Ah, but I was thinking the other day it would be a great deal easier
to be a carpenter, and earn money. I wasn't sure that I ought not to
do something to help mother soon.'
'No, my boy,' interrupted Mrs. Howard; 'it would not be your duty to
give up all opportunity of using the talents God has given you, when
the way has been made clear for you to receive the education that will
fit you to use them by-and-by. Fred always liked cutting wood and
making boats and stools, just as you are fond of making chemical
experiments, and watching what the result will be.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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