Eben Holden: A Tale of the North Country

by Irving Bacheller

  Chapter 14

  Hope's love of music became a passion after that night. Young MrLivingstone, 'the city chap' we had met at the church, came over nextday. His enthusiasm for her voice gave us all great hope of it. DavidBrower said he would take her away to the big city when she wasolder. They soon decided to send her in September to the big school inHillsborough.

  'She's got t' be a lady,' said David Brower, as he drew her into his lapthe day we had all discussed the matter. 'She's learnt everything inthe 'rithinetic an' geography an' speller. I want her t' learn somethin'more scientific.'

  'Now you're talkin',' said Uncle Eb. 'There's lots o' things ye can'tlearn by cipherin'. Nuthin's too good fer Hope.'

  'I'd like t' know what you men expect of her anyway,' said ElizabethBrower.

  'A high stepper,' said Uncle Eb. 'We want a slick coat, a kind uv atoppy head, an a lot O' ginger. So't when we hitch 'er t' the pole bimebye we shan't be 'shamed o' her.'

  'Eggzac'ly,' said David Brower, laughing. 'An' then she shall have thebest harness in the market.'

  Hope did not seem to comprehend all the rustic metaphors that had beenapplied to her. A look of puzzled amusement came over her face, and thenshe ran away into the garden, her hair streaming from under her whitesun-bonnet.

  'Never see sech a beauty! Beats the world,' said Uncle Eb in a whisper,whereat both David and Elizabeth shook their heads.

  'Lord o' mercy! Don't let her know it,' Elizabeth answered, in a lowtone. 'She's beginning to have-'

  Just then Hope came by us leading her pet filly that had been bornwithin the month. Immediately Mrs Brower changed the subject.

  'To have what?' David enquired as soon as the girl was out of hearing.

  'Suspicions,' said Elizabeth mournfully. 'Spends a good deal of her timeat the looking-glass. I think the other girls tell her and then thatyoung Livingstone has been turning her head.'

  'Turning her head!' he exclaimed.

  'Turning her head,' she answered. 'He sat here the other day anddeliberately told her that he had never seen such a complexion and suchlovely hair.'

  Elizabeth Brower mocked his accent with a show of contempt that feeblyechoed my own emotions.

  'That's the way o' city folks, mother,' said David.

  'It's a bad way,' she answered. 'I do not thank he ought to come here.Hope's a child yet, and we mustn't let her get notions.'

  'I'll tell him not t' come any more,' said David, as he and Uncle Ebrose to go to their work.'

  'I'm 'fraid she ought not to go away to school for a year yet,' saidElizabeth, a troubled look in her face.

  'Pshaw, mother! Ye can't keep her under yer wing alwus,' said he. 'Well,David, you know she is very young and uncommonly--' she hesitated.

  'Han'some,' said he, 'we might as well own up if she is our child.'

  'If she goes away,' continued Elizabeth, 'some of us ought t' go withher.'

  Then Uncle Eb and David went to their work in the fields and I to my owntask That very evening they began to talk of renting the farm and goingto town with the children.

  I had a stent of cording wood that day and finished it before twoo'clock Then I got my pole of mountain ash, made hook and line ready,dug some worms and went fishing. I cared not so much for the fishing asfor the solitude of the woods. I had a bit of think to do. In the thicktimber there was a place where Tinkle brook began to hurry and breakinto murmurs on a pebble bar, as if its feet were tickled. A few moresteps and it burst into a peal of laughter that lasted half the year asit tumbled over narrow shelves of rock into a foamy pool. Many a day Ihad sat fishing for hours at the little fall under a birch tree, amongthe brakes and moss. No ray of sunlight ever got to the dark water belowme--the lair of many a big fish that had yielded to the temptation ofmy bait. Here I lay in the cool shade while a singular sort of heartsickness came over me. A wild partridge was beating his gong in the nearwoods all the afternoon. The sound of the water seemed to break in thetree-tops and fall back upon me. I had lain there thinking an hour ormore when I caught the jar of approaching footsteps. Looking up I sawJed Feary coming through the bushes, pole in hand.

  'Fishin'?' he asked.

  'Only thinking,' I answered.

  'Couldn't be in better business,' said he as he sat down beside me.

  More than once he had been my father confessor and I was glad he hadcome.

  'In love?' he asked. 'No boy ever thinks unless he's in love.'

  'In trouble,' said I.

  'Same thing,' he answered, lighting his pipe. 'Love is trouble witha bit of sugar in it--the sweetest trouble a man can have. What's thematter?'

  'It's a great secret,' I said, 'I have never told it. I am in love.'

  'Knew it,' he said, puffing at his pipe and smiling in a kindly way.'Now let's put in the trouble.'

  'She does not love me,' I answered.

  'Glad of it,' he remarked. 'I've got a secret t, tell you.'

  'What's that?' I enquired.

  'Wouldn't tell anybody else for the world, my boy,' he said, 'it'sbetween you an' me.'

  'Between you an' me,' I repeated.

  'Well,' he said, you're a fool.'

  'That's no secret,' I answered much embarrassed.

  'Yes it is,' he insisted, 'you're smart enough an' ye can have mostanything in this world if ye take the right road. Ye've grown t' be agreat big strapping fellow but you're only--sixteen?'

  'That's all,' I said mournfully.

  'Ye're as big a fool to go falling in love as I'd be. Ye're too youngan' I'm too old. I say to you, wait. Ye've got to go t' college.'

  'College!' I exclaimed, incredulously.

  'Yes! an' thet's another secret,' said he. I tol' David Brower what Ithought o' your writing thet essay on bugs in pertickier--an' I tol' 'imwhat people were sayin' o' your work in school.'

  'What d' he say?' I asked.

  'Said Hope had tol' him all about it--that she was as proud o' you asshe was uv her curls, an' I believe it. "Well," says I, "y' oughter sen'that boy t' college." "Goin' to," says he. "He'll go t' the 'Cademy thisfall if he wants to. Then he can go t' college soon's he's ready." Threwup my hat an' shouted I was that glad.'

  As he spoke the old man's face kindled with enthusiasm. In me he had onewho understood him, who saw truth in his thought, music in his verse,a noble simplicity in his soul. I took his hand in mine and thanked himheartily. Then we rose and came away together.

  'Remember,' he said, as we parted at the corner, 'there's a way laidout fer you. In God's time it will lead to every good thing you desire.Don't jump over the fence. Don't try t' pass any milestun 'fore ye'vecome to it. Don't mope. Keep yer head cool with philosophy, yer feetwarm with travel an' don't worry bout yer heart. It won't turn t' stunif ye do keep it awhile. Allwus hev enough of it about ye t' do businesswith. Goodbye!'