Jerry had seen too many evidences of Clinton’s skilful use of carpenters’ tools to be at all surprised at this statement. Mr. Davenport, who had formerly worked as a carpenter, had a great variety of tools, and there was a regular workshop in the rear of the house, where Clinton spent many pleasant hours. He and Jerry now directed their steps to the shop, where several other new specimens of Clinton’s mechanical skill, completed or in progress of manufacture, were examined.
“Did you go to school last winter?” inquired Jerry, after he had satisfied his curiosity.
“No; I had been through all the branches they studied, and father thought it would be of no use for me to go,” replied Clinton.
“I suppose you don’t have lessons to get at home, now, do you?” added Jerry.
“Oh, yes,” replied Clinton; “I study at home, just the same as ever. I’ve been through my arithmetic, grammar, and geography, pretty thoroughly; and now I am studying algebra, chemistry, natural philosophy, and composition.”
There was no school kept in Brookdale except during three months in winter. The population was so small and scattered that the people thought this was all they could do for the education of the children. Mr. Davenport, however, did not think this was enough. From the time Clinton was old enough to study, he had required him to commit a certain number of lessons daily, at home, when school did not keep, and to recite them in the evening. Clinton was a pretty good scholar, and in this way made considerable progress with his studies. He had actually outgrown the village school, when but little more than fourteen years old. There was not another young man in town, under twenty, who could boast of having done this. Jerry well remembered how he used to pity Clinton, because he had to study so much, while other boys were roaming about at their pleasure; and, at the mention of philosophy, algebra, and chemistry, something of the same old feeling came up in his mind. But the greatest wonder was, Clinton never seemed to know how badly he was used. He could not seem to understand that there was any hardship about it. He said he didn’t study any more than boys did who went to school the year round. Why, if you will believe it, he rather seemed to like his tasks! It was an enigma that Jerry never could comprehend.
“You said something, a little while ago, about my going to college,” continued Clinton, after a pause. “No; I don’t think of going through college, exactly; but one of these days, when I am old enough, and have got money enough to pay my way, I mean to spend a year or two in the Scientific School at Cambridge. That’s what I’m studying and saving up my money for.”
“I don’t see what you want to study so much for,” replied Jerry. “I’ve been thinking what I’d do with your money, if I had it. I’d buy a smart horse and a handsome wagon, and go round and peddle all sorts of things. I bet I’d make a good deal more money than you can here on the farm, and I wouldn’t have to work, either.”
Clinton could hardly help smiling at this remark, which so truly revealed the character of Jerry; but he merely added,—
“Well, that’s something I never thought of.”