Owen laughed. "Father wants me to learn all I can; he says we can't have too much education, and if I want to make a fortune, I must gather all knowledge I can now."
"How will geography, and sums, and history help you to make your fortune?"
"I don't know how, but I suppose they all come in. If I didn't know anything of geography, how could I trade with foreign countries, or know where to write for the stuff I wanted? And how could I tell whether they were cheating me or not, if I couldn't add up my sums? I should like to learn foreign languages too, to be able to talk to the merchants myself; but father does not know any language but English."
Sam looked wonderingly at his young companion's eager face. He did not care for education himself, and he could not understand the desire for it in Owen. He had passed through school, as do many, learning just so much as he was obliged, and no more. Though he could read and write, it was very seldom he took up either book or pen, spending his time in wandering about the lanes and woods when he was released from the farm duties which fell to his share. He was a good-natured, pleasant companion, but could in no way share Owen's aspirations, though it amused him to listen to them.
When he was gone, Owen took up a book in order to study his lessons for the next day, but the fading light soon drove him into the brighter region of the fire. The warm glow spread itself all over the little kitchen, and even the snowy linen on the table looked attractive as it grew gradually smoother and fairer under Mrs. Mitchell's experienced hands. Owen watched her a while from the chimney-corner, and presently he said—
"It must be very nice to iron, Mrs. Mitchell; to see the things that look all rough, and uncomfortable, and damp, smoothing themselves out under your hand, and looking pleasant and happy."
Mrs. Mitchell was a character in her way, and had many thoughts under her somewhat stern face, but it had never occurred to her that the clothes were any happier for being ironed.
"I expect it is you who are happier for seeing the things smooth, Owen," she said; "it makes no difference to them, of course. But it do make a great difference to us to have things nice about us. I suppose that is the reason the dear Lord says, 'Whatsoever things are lovely, ... think on these things.'"
"Do you think that God cares about our having things nice and pretty?"
"Why, my dear, of course I do. Do you think God would have taken all the trouble to put so much beauty into the world if He hadn't meant us to love it and enjoy it? See what lots of flowers He has given us, and such beautiful colours, even turning the leaves bright for us when the flowers are going. And when the snow comes down, He arranges it as beautiful as possible, making the very frost trace delicate patterns on the windows, and on the ground."