“Any thing, sir, that offered me an equivalent.”
“Then you do not think that work will degrade you?”
“On the contrary, I think that labor will ennoble me. But as I wish to study, I should like to do that which would bring me the most for the least number of hours.”
He was silent, while I sat in suspense as to his purpose. What did he mean by all these questions?
“I believe you will do,” he said at length. “Young men are apt to think that work will degrade them. They forget that oaks spring from acorns, and little efforts lead to great results. The boy that will work to improve himself, will pretty surely merge into the man that will work for the good of others.”
In a few words he made known his plan. Robert Lovell was going to college; some one else must supply his place as under-tutor.
Mr. Harlan had suggested the names of two, Silas June and myself. Silas was very quick, and priding himself on this, he did not study. To be brilliant was his desire, and yet he might have been a thorough scholar had he studied. His quickness ruined him.
This situation, in consideration of my standing in class, was offered me, with sufficient remuneration to defray all my expenses.
I could hardly keep back the tears. This ray of light stealing through the darkness, was a reproof for all my faint-heartedness and despondency. “No right effort is ever lost.” There was a sun behind the clouds, though I had doubted it.
“I might have had that chance,” said June. “It was all my own foolishness. If I had only known the day Mr. Stovill was coming, I would have had my lessons; there would have been no trouble. My reports were against me.”