GOSSIP.
One such youth as Nat in a country village is the occasion of a good deal of gossip. Many opinions are expressed in regard to his motives and prospects, though in this case there were few conflicting sentiments. In the sewing circle, a good old lady, who could not appreciate education because she had none herself, said,
"Nat is a smart feller, but I'm feared he'll never be nothin' he thinks so much of book larning. I 'spose he thinks he can get a living by his wits."
The old lady had a half dozen champions of the tongue down upon her at once.
"No, no, Mrs. Lane," said one, "you judge Nat too severely. There is no one who attends to his work more closely than he does. You never heard one of his employers complain that he was indifferent to his business."
"He only employs his leisure moments in study," said another; "and I think that is much to his credit. If more boys in the village were like him, it would be vastly to our credit, and theirs, too."
"Yes," added a third; "and you may be sure that when a boy is reading during his evenings, and at other spare moments, he is out of mischief, and that is something in these days. There are parents in this town who never know that their sons are spending their leisure time well, because they are so often getting into bad scrapes. I guess if we could look into the tavern some evenings, we should find some of them there smoking and drinking."
"Wall," replied the old lady, "that may all be true enough, but too many edicated men are worse than none at all."
"Not if they earn their living, as Nat does, and get an education into the bargain," said one of the former speakers. "There is no danger that our sons and daughters will know too much. Most of them are satisfied with knowing too little."
"Wall, edication is good enough in its place," added Mrs. Lane, "but what does Nat 'spect to do with it in the machine-shop? You won't make me b'lieve that larning is good for anybody who will have no use for it. 'Spose a farmer studies the lor, what good will it do him if he only farms it? It will do him more hurt than good, because he will be nuther one thing nor 'tother. If we have farmers, let's have farmers, and if we have machinists, let's have machinists."
"Perhaps Nat will not always work at his trade," suggested one of the company. "There are many self-made men who are now serving society much better than they would be if they had continued to work at manual labor."
"Yis, that's it," exclaimed the old lady, with some earnestness; "that is jist what it will come to. These boys who take so to book larning will stop working soon as they b'lieve they can get their bread and butter by their wits. That's jist what I meant in the fust place. I hear 'um tell that Nat goes to Boston nights to hear some great speakers, and comes home afterwards, and I thinks it is ventersome. I'd never let a son of mine do it, in this world."
"Why? why?" inquired two or three voices at once.
"Why? a good reason why. You never know'd a boy who can be trusted in Boston nights. You don't know where they'll go to, and if ye do, there are sharpers on the lookout to lead them into evil. And who knows but robbers might seize him on his way back? I should think the boy was crazy."
"It is only an illustration of his energy and perseverance, Mrs. Lane," said one of the ladies. "He is determined to know something, though he has no time to learn except in his leisure hours; and it is really surprising how much a person may acquire by industry in these fragments of time."
"There's a nuther thing, too," continued Mrs. Lane. "I hear 'um tell that Nat carts a book about in his pocket all the time he works. Pretty business, I think, for a youngster like him to try to be a scholar and worker at once! It's all proof to me that taking to books so will spile him for any thing."
"One thing is certain, Mrs. Lane, that he does not mean to waste any time; for the book in his pocket is to take out when he has a minute to spare. If he gets only ten minutes in a day to read, that will be one hour in the six working days, which is worth saving. That single hour a day, in a lifetime, would give a man considerable knowledge."
"Wall, it's no use arguing about it. Times are so diff'rent now from what they was when I was young, and peoples thinks so diff'rent, that it 'pears to me sometimes that the world is going to rack and ruin. We got along well 'nough fifty or sixty years ago without so much edication. But folks are got to be so stylish now, and boys know so much more than their grandpas, that I railly don't know what'll come on us."
"After all, Mrs. Lane, I think you would rather have more boys like Nat, than like some others I could name," said a former speaker.
"Lor, yis," she replied; "I guess I should. I allers liked Nat. He's a rale clever feller as ever lived, and he ain't stuck-up by his smartness, and he likes to see everybody well used. I larfed myself most to death when I heard about his waitin' on Hanner Mann to the party. It's jist like Nat, he can't bear to see anybody slighted."
"I like to see that," answered one of the number; "it is a good sign. He thought Hannah and her sister were slighted because their father was poor and intemperate, and they were not able to dress quite so well as some others, and this excited his sympathies, so that he was determined they should go to the party."
"I know'd all about that," replied Mrs. Lane, "and that's what pleased me so, to see a youngster like him so inderpendent, and stand up for good folks if they are poor."
The reference here to an incident of Nat's youthful experience needs explanation, as the fact illustrates an element of his character from childhood, and furnishes additional reason for the course in which his sympathies and better feelings ran thereafter. Nat and Charlie had received invitations to a social gathering, in connection with their companions, and the following conversation and decision occurred with reference to attending.
"There is Hannah Mann, and her sister," said Nat, "they never go. Nobody thinks they are good enough to associate with them, because they are poor and unable to dress as well as some others."
"I have observed it," answered Charlie. "Some of the girls are always making sport of them, and I doubt if any of the fellows ever waited upon them. Yet they are as good as the best of them, for aught I know."
"That is true," added Nat; "they appear well, and are good scholars, and know twice as much as some of the girls who slight them. A splendid silk dress would not improve their characters at all, though it might their personal appearance. I will tell you what I will do, Charlie; if you will wait upon one of them, I will upon the other. What do you say to it?"
"I say amen to it," answered Charlie. "They are as good as I am any day, and I ought not to endanger the characters of those who are better by going with them."
"I am in earnest. I mean just what I say," continued Nat.
"So am I in earnest," said Charlie, smiling. "Did you think I am joking?"
"I thought you looked rather unbelieving, as if you imagined I was jesting."
"No such thing; your proposition rather pleased me than otherwise."
"Well, then," said Nat, "it is settled that we go to the party, and wait upon these girls, is it?"
"Certainly, if you say so."
This decision was carried out. The two sisters were escorted to the party by Nat and Charlie, to the surprise of some of the better apparelled girls, who were secretly hoping to be the fortunate ones themselves. The incident created quite a sensation among the young people. At first, they did not quite understand it; but they were not long in discovering that Nat intended to rebuke their ungenerous treatment of these girls. Some were inclined to exhibit a little resentment; but they soon perceived that it would only make a bad matter worse. Nat "laughed behind his ears" to see how the thing worked, and many a knowing glance was exchanged with Charlie in the course of the evening. Before sun-down, on the following day, the facts in the case were known by many of the villagers. The aristocratic ones sneered at the act, while others commended it as the fruit of a generous spirit. On the whole, it did much good in the community, because it caused many persons to see the unkindness and even cruelty of slighting the worthy, on account of their humble origin and circumstances.
That decision and independence, which aided Nat so much in his studies, enabled him to perform this act. An irresolute, dull, stupid, inefficient youth, would not have braved the current of feeling that had set against the girls. In this way it is, that the leading elements of character hitherto discussed assist a youth in all circumstances. He is more of a man in doing both little and great things. They dignify common politeness as really as they do achievements in art and science. They make the gentleman as truly as the scholar. Robert Burns was once walking in the streets of Edinburgh, in company with an aristocratic associate, when the latter rebuked him for stopping to speak to a rough but worthy farmer who had come to market, and Burns' reply evinced just the spirit which Nat admired. "Why, you fantastic gomeral," said he, "it was not the great coat, the scone bonnet, and the saunders boots hose that I spoke to, but the man that was in them; and the man, sir, for true worth, would weigh down you and me, and ten more such, any day."