Elder Dean wuz English, college bred. Been abroad as a missionary, broke down, and come to Jonesville with a weak voice and lungs, but a full head and a noble heart, for six hundred dollars a year and parsonage found.
They’d always had a hard time, bein’ put to it for things and kinder sickly. But he and his heroic wife had one flower in their life that wuz a-bustin’ into full bloom, and a-sweetenin’ their hard present and their wearisome past, and the promise and beauty on’t a-throwin’ a bright, clear light clear acrost their futer—even down the steep banks where the swift stream rushes through the dark, and clear over onto the other side.
This brightness and blessin’ that lightened up their hard and toilsome way wuz their only child, a youth of such manly beauty and gentle goodness that his love made up to ’em, so they said to me, for all they had suffered and all they had lost through their lives.
He had been brought up on clear love mostly. His Pa and Ma had literally carried him in their hearts from the time his sweet, baby face had smiled up to ’em from his cradle.
Nobody could tell the tenderness and love that had been lavished on him. His Ma jest lived in him and his Pa, too, but their devotion hadn’t spilte him, not at all—not mentally nor morally.
Though there wuz them that did think that his Ma, bein’ so dretful tender of him and lookin’ out so for his health in every way, had kinder weakened his constitution and he would have been stronger if he had roughed it more.
Bein’ watched over so lovin’ly all his days, he wuz jest about as delicate and couldn’t stand any more hardship than a girl; but he wuz stiddy and industrious, a good Christian, and dretful ambitious. And they looked forrered to him as bein’ an honor as well as a blessin’ to ’em in the futer.
The minister had learnt him all he knew, so he said, and for years back they’d been savin’ every penny they could, deprivin’ themselves of even necessaries to git the money to send Harry to college. From his babyhood they’d worked for this. And jest before Al Faizi come to Jonesville, the long looked-for and worked-for end had come—Harry had gone to college, a-carryin’ with him all his parents’ love and hope for the futer, and a small trunk full of necessaries, some Balsam of Fir for his lungs, and some plasters and things his Ma had put in.
Wall, as I said, Elder Dean had took dretfully to Al Faizi, and he to him. So one day I invited the elder and his wife over to dinner. I went myself to gin ’em the invitation.
I found the elder a carefully coverin’ a old book of poems he had bought, which wuz very rare, so he said, and jest what Harry had wanted. He had took the money he had been savin’ for a winter coat, so I hearn afterwards, to buy it.