returning to the garret, rich said, "about a profession—is it?" flinging himself on the bed, while morton, seated in a chair, thrust his feet out of the window. "just have the goodness to open that volume on the table."

it was bell's operative surgery.

"then you are going to study medicine?"

"it is registered on leaves of brass."

"when did you decide?"

"i've been trying to decide ever since i left college; but i did decide before i left the breakfast table the morning father told me the boom and mills had gone. i borrowed these books of our doctor, and at night, when i'm not too tired, i read them once in the while; when work permits i go with him to visit some patient. i went with him a week ago when he amputated a man's hand at the wrist. he is very kind, has large practice, and rides long distances, as he has the practice of this and the next town."

"you won't accomplish much in this way."

[pg 143]

"i don't expect to; but i can't leave father now, as i find that my taking hold has been a great help and comfort to him and my uncle. they have a good deal of work, and it is increasing every day; and i don't mean to leave them till i see the family in more comfortable quarters. the shop and house adjoining was my grandfather's, and when my father failed, passed into the hands of a mr. montague. he gives my father the use of the shop and tools, and in the fall, when the family now in it moves out, will let him have the old house, which is an excellent one, built by my grandfather after he acquired property. my father and uncle are living in this old shell, working incessantly. when no other work comes in, my uncle, who can work in wood as well as iron, makes wheels. my father puts on the tires. they sell them. mother takes in spinning, and saves every cent. i do all i can in order to be able, at the end of the summer, to buy back grandfather's tools, that we may have something of our own. besides, they are dear to father. he helped make most of them when he was a boy, and says there's a history to every one of them."

"how long is it going to take to do all that?"

"not longer than september or the middle of october, if we are all well. in the mean time i shall read what medicine i can, go round with dr. jones occasionally, and when i see the family in[pg 144] the new house and comfortable, take an academy somewhere or high school, and teach till i can earn money enough to go on with my studies."

"you're a good boy, rich."

"why don't you tell me some news?"

"i'm going to. that academy is all ready."

"what do you mean by that?"

"did you think i would leave my studies and come way up here just to look at the wreck? put my arm round your neck, whimper, and say, what a pity!"

"explain, mort, please, that's a good fellow."

"who said i wasn't a good fellow? well, perk's got an academy for you in the next town to his whenever you're ready to take it, salary two hundred a year. he fitted for college there, knows all the trustees, and everybody in town; and he's cracked you up sky high; told all the boys what a nice fellow you are, the most lovable man ever god made, the trustees what a splendid classical scholar you are, and all the young ladies how handsome. so i advise you, as a sincere friend, to take unto yourself nitre and much soap, and wash off that smut, which seems to me to be under the skin."

"o, mort, this is all your work!"

"no,'tain't; it's all old perk's. i only came to tell the news."

"but you were the means of it."

"no; it was that good being whom you, after[pg 145] so many years of prosperity, couldn't afford to think about or thank till he sent the river to put you in mind of him."

"how can i ever thank you enough?"

"do you think a man ought to be thanked for helping himself?"

"no, of course not."

"are not you and i one? didn't you say only last night we were one, and that there never was a shadow between us? what are you talking about?"

"i can't understand how they can wait my leisure. there must of course be a definite time when the term begins."

"certainly; perk will send you a catalogue; but he will take the school till you come. i told him i knew something about your affairs, and thought it doubtful if you could come at the first part of the term."

"this is a kind of joyous time, mort; makes this old attic seem real pleasant."

"yes; the architecture is simple in design; but the atmosphere is most exhilarating."

"i suppose i can tell father and mother?"

"to be sure. a good story is no worse for being twice told."

"what is perk doing?"

"just what you were doing all last year."

after dinner rich went to the shop, and[pg 146] morton, first taking a long walk, called there on his way back, and found mr. robert alone.

"where is rich?" he asked.

"well, a man came here to get a 'clevis' pin made, and let them take his horse and wagon to haul a load of coal, while i made the pin. you seem to think a good deal of rich, as you call him, mr. morton."

"i don't know how i could love him any more than i do."

"well, he's a boy that deserves to be thought of. he never was brought up to do the leastest individual thing, 'cept to study a book and make some little gimcrank with tools; and yet to see how he took hold the moment his father's misfortunes came—went right to the anvil, never murmured or complained; and though he's my nephew, i will say that he's worth as much to-day in this shop as the general run of apprentices that have worked two years; and as for working in wood, he always took to that. 'twas born in him."

"don't you think, mr. richardson, that a boy whose grandfather and father were blacksmiths is more likely to be handy in a shop?"

"i suppose these things are kind of handed down. i know there's a good deal in the blood; i know it by our girls. they are all broken down, sit and sigh, think what they used to have, and let their mother do all the work."

[pg 147]

"are they not own sisters to rich?"

"the same father and mother; but they take back after the armstrongs; they don't take after the richardsons, who are a resolute, stirring breed of folks. their old grandmother armstrong was a dreadful slack-twisted, shiftless woman; had to be helped by the town; and when the selectmen gave her a cord of wood, she'd put about two foot into the great fireplace, declare she'd have one fire if she died for it, and then sit, fold her hands in her lap, and enjoy it. her children took after her, 'cept my brother's wife, and she's smart as steel; took after her mother's people, the blunts. but that old woman that's been dead and buried this twenty years has come out in the grandchildren. it is not the way, mr. morton, to bring up children. this twenty years past i've been saying to clem and lucy that they were doing wrong by their children. says i, 'bring them up to work as we were. if they don't need to, it's the easiest thing in the world to leave off; but it's hard to learn.' then lucy would say, 'uncle, i don't want them to have to work as hard as i have.' says i, 'perhaps they may be obliged to. what then?' then clem would laugh, and say that old maids' and old bachelors' children were always brought up right."

"but i'm sure rich has come out well."

"indeed he has; but he is a remarkable boy,[pg 148] and is no rule to go by. besides, we must thank you, and do thank you, for a good part of that: you did a parent's duty by him. don't you think he is in better shape to keep the 'cademy, for teaching school in college, and wasn't he in better shape, and would he have had the pluck to go so willingly to the anvil if he hadn't been broke in by you in college?"

"i suppose you are right, mr. richardson; but in respect to the young ladies."

"call 'em girls, mr. morton; and they are not very young at that."

"well, girls, then. would any training their parents could have given taken the thin blood (the armstrong, as you call it) out of them."

"i don't suppose it would; but it would have helped it amazingly. you see if i get a bar of swedish iron, first rate, stamped 'hoop l,' i put it into the fire, and work it without fear; but if i have a bar of english iron, brash and coarse, can't get any better, and must work it up, why, by taking great pains, heating it just right, and working it just right, i can, by coaxing, make it answer—not so good a purpose as the other iron, but can make it very useful. that's the way with children; you've got 'em, and got to work 'em up, and must make the best of 'em, as i do with 'brash' iron. these girls were partly on our side the house, and if they had been put right to it, it would have helped the better part, and[pg 149] kept the other back, just as the saw-makers put the nature into a saw by hammering when it has been softened in grinding. now all they do is to put the dishes on the table, sweep up the hearth and look in the glass, wring their hands, and tell about what used to be. they might teach school if they only had 'sprawl' enough."

mr. richardson then told morton that his brother would take an apprentice when they moved into the old homestead and had room, after which rich would be able to leave home.