“I shall now make one last effort to rouse you to diligence, and a wish to discover what your brains were made for. At present they are no better than calves’ brains, only fit to be boiled and served up with sauce; although you have been told often enough that they were given you for your own use, improvement, and the good of others; that the more you study and cultivate your faculties, the wiser, better, and happier you will be. But this good advice has been thrown away, and I intend to bestow all your advantages upon Johnny Goodfellow, the farmer’s son, who loves learning as much as you do pastry and cake; and you are to take his place—groom horses, follow the plough, chop wood, draw water, and do up generally what farmers call ‘chores,’ which, I believe, means a hundred and fifty different things.
“When you have learned to execute all these things quickly and cheerfully—mind! I say cheerfully—if you wish to return to your studies, and become something more than a two-legged donkey, I shall be very glad to take you back to your home and my love; but until then, do not expect to hear from your grieving mother, or sorrowful father,
“James Wiseman.”
Here was a terrible letter indeed! and Philip sank down on his bed, and miserably reflected upon his bad habits, and the happy home which now seemed lost forever. Conscience began to be busy with him; and all the little fellows whom he had tormented with his “snapper” appeared to rise up in the far gloom of the garret, laughing inaudibly, and making faces at him. “Oh,” he thought, “if I could only get back to school, I would be kind to them, I would study, I would try to please Dr. Gradus and my parents.” In the midst of these very sensible reflections, the trouble of which was, that they came a little too late, the light went out, and, covering his head with the bed-clothes, Philip lay shaking with foolish fears, till he fell into a troubled sleep. He forgot to say his prayers.
The next morning, just after daylight, a sonorous voice resounded through the garret, and seemed to shake the brown rafters—“Phil-ip, Phil, wake up!”
“Yes sir,” cried the boy, springing out of bed, and staring wildly. “Why, where am I?”
Alas! it all came back too soon, and Philip felt that he was indeed only a stable-boy, when he saw that a coarse pair of dark blue overalls and rough cow-hide shoes had been put on the chair by the side of the bed, in place of his own fine broadcloth pantaloons and patent leather boots. He put the rough clothes on with heavy sighs, not waiting to tie the shoes, as the farmer shouted to him to “make haste and come to the stable.”
When he got there, he was taught how to wash and curry the great farm horses, put on halters, and take them to a trough in the farmyard to water. Then he had to bring them back and harness them, and fasten them to the pole of the wagon, for the farmer, who had been loading it with vegetables and fruit to take to market to sell, while Phil was left behind with orders to clean the stables, and prepare the litter for night. He was not alone in these labors, for a man who helped in the fields and garden, worked with him for the present, and gave him a great deal of good-natured advice and assistance.
Phil felt very miserable, almost desperate; but he had the sense to perceive, that the only way to get back to his former station was to do his duty here. So he worked slowly but steadily all day, with many sighs and groans, wiping away a great tear now and then with his shirt-sleeve.
It was certainly lonely dull work; and some of it not very nice; for he had to feed about fifty great pigs, and everybody knows that pigs never use Cologne, and had rather roll in a mud-puddle than take a warm bath with plenty of nicely scented soap. So all the time he was bringing these grunting, snorting, bad-smelling animals their food, which the farm man very properly called “swill,” he held his breath till he nearly burst; while the pigs, fighting, kicking, butting, and pushing, ate their dinner in the midst of a regular riot. Oh! I wonder if children ever eat in this fashion?