As I was going away from home it was deemed important that I should have a specially good suit. Consequently, Mrs. Green was called in to construct it, and I was very proud of the garments when they were finished. It was the best suit of clothes I had ever possessed, and I wore them to church every Sunday after their completion until my departure. Extra stockings and an extra shirt completed my wardrobe; and these, with the new suit of clothes, made a fairly good bundle, which I was to carry on my shoulder. The last suit which brother Charles had discarded was made over for me to wear on my journey, so that when I was ready to leave home I presented quite a respectable appearance.
When the time came for us to start it was a great pain for me to say good-by to parents and brothers. I was anxious enough to go, and my young head and heart were full of ambition and of high hopes for the future. But at the same time I realized that I might be going away never to return; and, though none of us said so, I'm sure that the same thought was in every mind.
My mother broke down and cried when I kissed her farewell; my father made a great effort to preserve his composure, but I could see the tears standing in his eyes as he shook my hand and gave me his blessing with a choked voice. I learned afterward that when I stepped out of the door he yielded to his sorrow, as my mother had already done, and sank speechless and almost fainting into a chair. It was practically the same at David's house; yes, there was more grief there than at my own home, as David had two sisters, while I had none. The girls were very fond of their brother, and when the time came for him to bid them good-by they were so heart-broken that they were unable to speak.
I am not ashamed to say that I cried, and bitterly too, when I left my father's house. I said so to David before the day was out, and he frankly acknowledged that he had cried too when he left home.
Mr. Taylor's house was nearer to Boston than was my father's; and so it was agreed that David would watch for me on the morning when we were to start, and come out and join me as I passed. You may wonder why I did not go into the house to say good-by to the Taylor family. The fact is, I foresaw that I might not be wanted there at that moment, and so I called at David's house the evening before, partly to arrange our plans, but more especially to say good-by to the Taylors. You already understand that I was much attached to David, and I will add that I was especially fond of his eldest sister, who was a year younger than himself. To say good-by to her was no small effort for me, and I felt that it would be better for us to make our adieus in the evening, rather than in the morning, when the whole household would be plunged in grief at David's departure.
CHAPTER II.
WALKING TO BOSTON.—SUSPECTED TO BE RUNAWAYS.—FIND A SHIP AND SIGN ARTICLES.
We had a good sixty miles to walk, yes, sixty-five of them, from our homes to Boston. There was a stage coach which ran daily each way, but it was five miles from our house to the nearest point of the turnpike road, on which the stage traveled. We were too poor to afford such a magnificent conveyance, and therefore had arranged to walk the entire distance. In addition to our bundles or packs which I had already described, David having an outfit exactly like mine, we had provisions enough, as we hoped, to last until we reached Boston, and a cash capital of a little over five dollars each. We were strong lads, and capable of a great deal of exertion, and we figured out that we would walk the distance in two days, begging the privilege of sleeping in a barn during the intervening night. I left home immediately after breakfast, which was served an hour earlier than usual, in order to give me a good start. It was the same at David's house, and it was not yet seven o'clock before we were on the road.