“Yes, and said she died praying for me; and gave me a bible that was my mother’s, her name is in it, but I can’t read it, though I know where it is.”
He drew a bible from his breast pocket and pointed with his finger to the fly-leaf, on which was written “Estelle Whitneys, her book, bought while at service at Bolton Le Moors.”
Bertie, who had become intensely interested in this narration, entreated that he might have the sole care of instructing James, and as the evenings were now quite long, the time after supper was devoted to that purpose. As they took supper at an early hour this afforded them a good opportunity, James being excused from milking and all other work at that hour. James stipulated that he should first of all be taught to tell the time by the clock. He was soon able to tell the hours and half hours and quarters, and by the next Sabbath had mastered the minutes and seconds.
It was the intention of Mr. Whitman to ascertain and bring out the capabilities of the boy by leaving him as much as possible to his own direction, hoping in that way to stimulate thought, and cultivate a spirit of self-reliance. He had engaged to haul another load of wheat to the miller, and also wanted to have some corn (that the old grandfather had shelled) ground, and the horses required shoeing, and as James had recovered from his lameness, and was able to carry the bags of grain into the mill, resolved to entrust him with the errand.
Mrs. Whitman demurred at this, saying that the horses had not done much work of late, and were full of life; that he did not know anything about James, whether he was capable of driving a team with a valuable load on a long hilly road or not. Besides he knew neither the way to the mill, nor to the smith’s shop.
“I’ve watched his movements with the horses, and I’ll risk him. He is altogether different from one of our boys, who are quite likely to undertake more than they can perform, and will hesitate at nothing. I’ll ask him, and if he is willing to do it, I’ll let him go, and send Bert with him to show him the way, and tell the miller and blacksmith what I want done.”
“Why don’t you send Peter with him, and then all will go right?”
“That would be just to take the business out of his hands and spoil the whole thing; whereas I want to put it into his hands and give him the sole management of the team.”
James professing his readiness to go, the pair set out taking their dinner with them. Bertie was heard chattering, expatiating upon the good qualities of the horses, and telling James their names, ages, and pedigree, till his voice became inaudible in the distance.
“If he rides eight miles with Bert and don’t talk any, he will do more than I think he can,” said Mr. Whitman, as he looked after them, not without a shade of anxiety upon his face as he remarked the rate at which the spirited team whirled the heavy load down a long reach of descending ground, snorting as they travelled. It passed off however, as he saw that James had them well in hand, and stopped them to breathe at the foot of the first sharp rise. They returned, having accomplished their errand, and after James had eaten his supper and retired, Mr. Whitman said to Bertie,—