or the next month Benny lived in a seventh heaven of delight. The only drawback to his happiness was that Nelly was not alive to share his good fortune. Time was mercifully blunting the keen edge of his sorrow, and day by day he was getting more reconciled to his loss. Yet never a day passed but that he wished a hundred times that his little sister were still with him, that they might rejoice together in his good fortune. He knew that she was better off, and even hoped that she was not altogether ignorant of his success in life. Yet how much pleasanter it would have been, he thought, if they could have journeyed on through life together.
Benny had wonderful dreams of future success. Though not of a very imaginative temperament, he could not help occasionally indulging in daydreams and castle-building, and some of his castles, it must be admitted, were of the most magnificent description.
He saw the glowing heights before him, the summits of which others had reached, and why might not he? He certainly had commenced the ascent: what was there to hinder him from reaching the top? Had not granny told him of poor Liverpool boys who, by perseverance and honest toil, had become wealthy men, and were now occupying high and honourable positions? Surely, then, there was a chance for him, and if he did not succeed it should not be for want of trying.
He felt that already he had got his foot on the first rung of the ladder, and if there was any chance of his reaching the top he would do it. And as he thought thus, the future opened out before him in glowing vistas of unimagined beauty.
He knew that he must wait many years; that he must work hard and patiently; that perhaps many difficulties would arise that he could not foresee; still, still, across the boggy valley the mountain rose up with its sunlighted crown, and the question came back—Others had reached the top, then why might not he?
It is true he never attempted to put these thoughts into words. They seemed to him too big for utterance; yet they were always with him, lightening his toil and brightening the long future that lay before him.
If Benny had been of a less practical turn of mind, he might have done what so many others have done—dreamed his life away, or waited idly for fortune to drop her treasures in his lap. But Benny, notwithstanding his occasional daydreams, was sufficiently matter-of-fact to know that if he was to win any success in life, it must be by hard work.
He was already able to read very creditably. But now a new desire seized him—he would learn to write as well. But how was he to begin? He had to confess that that was a poser, for neither granny nor Joe could give him any assistance. Still he had set his heart upon learning to write, and he was not to be defeated.