The Fairchilds

by Lucy Ellen Guernsey

"We need not mind what she says," said Flora. "Advice is the only thing she is liberal with. We are not likely to see her very soon, I fancy, now that we have not the farm for her to rusticate upon."

"Never mind her," said Eben, good-naturedly. "There, mother! I forgot part of my errand, after all. Mr. Budd, the steward at 'The Cure,' has sent you a basket of famous duck eggs to put under one of our hens. You know how much you admired those beautiful white ducks we saw in the park that day. He has sent you eight of the eggs, and old Dusty wants to set, so we can put them right under her."

Mrs. Fairchild was very fond of poultry, and very skilful in raising the more delicate kinds. The present of the duck eggs, and the sight of the magazines, which Flora now brought out, quite restored her good humour, and before bed-time, she was ready to believe that Eben had done the best thing possible, and to say what a good thing it was that he had a mother to advise him, to which Eben very heartily agreed.

"And as for sister Fletcher, why, as you say, Eben, we are not bound to mind her. If your father had been governed by her, we never should have adopted you at all, for she was very much opposed to it. And you always have been a comfort, Eben—always. I will say that for you, and your dear father said the same. And I dare say you will get an education yet, somehow or other. Things often do come round, you know, when we least expect them."

"Very true," said Eben, cheerfully. "Goodnight, dear mother. I must be up bright and early, you know."

Then Eben went to his own little room, and setting down his candle, dropped wearily into his chair and laid his head on his arms. He did not look quite so cheerful. In fact, nobody, not even Flora, guessed the sacrifice he was making.

Eben loved study and the acquirement of learning for learning's sake to a degree somewhat unusual in a boy of his age. He learned easily, especially where languages were concerned, and he had a kind of passion for everything connected with physiology and natural history. Eben had a quick and strong imagination, and had been somewhat given to castle-building. Often and often he had gone over all the circumstances of his future life—how he would get through college and into the medical schools, working his way, after a while, so as not to be so much of a burden on his father; how he would take his degree and got into practice, and then, when he could afford it, how he would go abroad and see the hospital and health establishments of Europe; how he would get in as assistant to the famous Doctor Henry at the Springs, and after a while set up an establishment of his own.

Latterly, these dreams had somewhat changed their character. A brother of Mrs. Willson's had come home from India, where he had been a medical missionary, and had made a long visit to his brother-in-law. Doctor Auben was a man of great sense and kindness, and struck by the eagerness and fixed attention with which Eben had listened to his Sunday-evening lectures, he took the opportunity of becoming acquainted with the boy. Since that time Eben's views had undergone a change, and instead of a grand establishment at home, he thought of a large practice in India or China, where he might minister to the bodily wants of the heathens, and at the same time help to extend the kingdom of the Master whom he loved. For Eben was a true Christian boy, a member of the church, and quite ready to confess himself such on all proper occasions, and to make the glory of God the great aim of his life.

It was very hard to give up all these bright dreams and plans, and go to work with a good grace at the hundred and one little things which go to fill up the time of a "hired boy." Eben could not but feel that it was hard, though he had quite made up his mind what to do. It seemed to him somehow as if his Master had rejected him as unfit for the place he had wished so much to fill—as if he must have deceived himself and overrated his own talents, since, after all his aspirations, he was simply compelled to occupy himself with the commonest task which any dunce could have performed as well. Eben had some very bitter thoughts during the hour that he sat by his little table with his head resting on his arms. The tempter was busy with him, suggesting hard and unkind thoughts of the Master he had tried so hard to serve, and resisting all his attempts to say heartily, "Thy will, not mine, be done."

"There is no use in all this," Eben said, at last, aloud, and starting to his feet. "I can't make myself submissive, nor cheerful, nor believing, as I know I ought to be, but I know who can and will do all that and more for me."