“I never said nor thought so, Walter; but I have a work in hand which will prevent my having the pleasure of taking a part in this race, for it really would have been a pleasure to me.”
“Ah! it must be a precious important work, no doubt,” said his brother satirically. “Just tell us what it is, and we shall be able to judge.”
Amos made no reply to these last words, but turned first very red and then very pale.
“Humph!” said Walter; “I guess what it is. It’s a new scheme for paying off the national debt, by turning radishes into sovereigns and cabbage-leaves into bank-notes; and it’ll take a deal of time and pains to do it.” He laughed furiously at his own wit, but, to his mortification, he laughed alone. There was a rather painful silence, which was broken by the gentle voice of Miss Huntingdon.
“I think, dear Walter,” she said, “that you are a little hard on your brother. Surely he may have an important work on hand without being engaged in such a hopeless task as attempting to turn radishes into sovereigns and cabbage-leaves into bank-notes. And does it follow that he despises your boat-race because he prefers duty to pleasure?”
“Ah! that’s just it,” cried Walter, in a tone of mingled excitement and displeasure. “Who’s to know that it is duty? I think one duty is very plain, and I should have thought you would have agreed with me here, and that is to give up your own way and pleasure sometimes, when by doing so you may help to make other people happy.”
“I quite agree with you in that, Walter,” said his aunt. “It may be and often does become a duty to surrender our own pleasure, but never surely to surrender our duty.”
“True, aunt, if it’s really duty; but some people’s duty means merely their own fancy, and it’s very convenient to call that duty when you don’t want to be obliging.”
“It may be so, Walter; but, on the other hand, if we have seen cause even to impose upon ourselves something as a duty, we are bound to carry it out, although others may not see it to be a duty and may call it fancy; and certainly we should at least respect those who thus follow what they firmly believe they ought to do, even though we cannot exactly understand or agree with their views of duty. So you must bear with Amos; for I am certain that he would not say ‘No’ to you about the race if he were not persuaded that duty stands in the way of his taking a part in it.”
“Ah, well! happy Amos to have such a champion,” cried Walter, laughing, for he had now recovered his good-humour. “I suppose you are right, and I must allow brother Amos to have his duty and his mystery all to himself. But it’s odd, and that’s all I can say about it. Such short-sighted mortals as I am can’t see those duties which are up in the clouds, but only those which lie straight before our eyes.”