December 10th.—Everybody is essay mad—that is, all the fellows in our class who have gone in for it. Chandos and I never talk about it to each other, but I know he is disappointed, for he was ill the first part of this half, and so he will have no prizes to take home at Christmas. I suppose I should be disappointed too if I was one of the fellows that grind, but I don't see the use of it, and so prizes don't come in my way. Not but what I should like to please mamma, and she would be pleased, I know, if such a wonder was to happen; but then I hate books, unless they are about the sea, or something of that sort. I shall be glad when the holidays are here now. I should not like to confess it even to Tom, but I want to see my mother, and ask her some of the questions that have puzzled me lately. Then there is always lots of fun at Christmas, and there has been so little here. Another week and this essay fuss will be over, and then the fellows will talk about the other prizes and going home, and I shall try to forget all the bother, and Tom's share in it too, if I can. I wonder who will get this essay prize—not Tom, I am certain.
December 18th.—Tom has got the prize. I cannot understand it one bit. I know he has gone in for lots of grind lately, like the other fellows, but there were two or three that I felt sure would be better up to that kind of work than he was. I cannot feel glad that he has won it, and I have not told him I am; and some of the fellows that were most urgent for him to go in have scarcely spoken to him since. I wonder whether they think, as I do, that this watch should of right belong to Chandos. Tom and I are going home together. No one at home knows anything of what has happened, and I shall not tell them if I can help it. Chandos has asked me to go and see him in the holidays, and I mean to ask mamma to let him come to our house. I think I shall like that better than going to his place, for I fancy his people are dreadfully religious, and we know nothing about that sort of thing, but I don't like to be thought quite a heathen.
January 20th.—The holidays are over, and we are back at school in our old places once more. Tom has taken up the notion that I am envious of his good luck in getting the watch. Good luck! I call it bad luck, for it was a bad business altogether, and I let out something about this at home; but mamma only thought it was one of our ordinary quarrels.
I went to see Chandos in the holidays. He has several brothers and sisters; one of them has come back with him to school, and is among the juniors, although he is only a year or two younger than his brother; but he has been delicate, and is very backward, and so was obliged to go into the lower division of the school. I like Mrs. Chandos very much. She is religious after a different pattern from my Aunt Phoebe, and somehow everything seems so real about her that I don't wonder Chandos believes everything she says. But I don't mean to like Chandos too much. He is all very well, but he is not Tom, and can never be my lieutenant. I had a talk to mamma about going to sea, but she is as obstinate as ever. I told Chandos of this when he came to see me, and he said, "Then I am afraid you will have to give it up, Stewart."
"Give it up! give up the sea! you don't know what you are talking about, Chandos!"
"Yes, I do, for I wanted to be a doctor quite as badly as you want to go to sea; but when my father died, and my mother told me how impossible it was that my wish could be gratified, I set to work at once to conquer it."
"Set to work to conquer it! But how could you do that?" I said.
"I—I began in the only way I could; I asked God to help me for my mother's sake to overcome the selfish desire, and make me willing to do all I could to learn what was necessary to be a merchant."
"But you don't hate the idea of being chained to a desk as I do, or you wouldn't talk so coolly about it."
"Not now. But I did hate it quite as much as you can, Stewart; but I remembered that my mother was not rich. When my father died we were very much reduced, and if I should offend my uncle by refusing this offer he might refuse to help the younger ones by-and-by; and so you see it was my duty to forget myself and my own wishes, and do what I could to help my mother."