Charles. Why, where shall we live?
Mother. In a small house of mine at the south-end, where your nurse used to live. But I shed more tears at first about you and Ellen. We cannot afford to educate you as we intended.
Charles. And there was I complaining this very morning about having to study!
Mother. Your thoughtless words made my heart ache, Charles!
Charles. If I have to get my living, why cannot I be a lawyer?
Mother. Your father cannot send you to college; your studies must all be directed towards preparing to enter a counting-room as soon as possible. Your father’s mercantile friends respect him, for striving to pay all his debts, and they will help you. But, Charles, you will find it necessary to give your most earnest attention to your new pursuits.
Charles. That I will, mother! I will find out how cousin Richard manages his mind. Attention! yes, indeed I will. I shall think of nothing now but what I ought. I shall never waste my time again.
Mother. You promise confidently, Charles; and in truth I shall shed fewer tears, if I find this change in our situation may benefit my beloved son’s character. It was too plain that the expectation of a fortune from your father was injuring you. Wipe your eyes, Charles, and go to school. Your quarter will close next Saturday, and then we must take you from that expensive school. But wherever you go, I think you will find that study—real study—will make difficult things soon become easy; and there will be a pleasure in it you have never known, while holding your book indolently with a wandering mind.
