“But I don’t believe that would suit you,” added Jerry. “I suppose you mean to be something more than common, don’t you?”
“Why, as to that,” replied Clinton, “I want to do the best for myself that I can, that’s all. I never expected to be a great character, or to cut a wonderful figure in the world, or anything of that sort; but I want to be a useful and intelligent man. To tell the truth, I can’t make up my mind what I do want to be, exactly. I used to think I’d like to be a merchant, if I could live in some great city, and do business on a big scale, and own ships and warehouses, and make plenty of money; but I’ve about given up that idea. I think now, sometimes, that I should like to be an architect, an engineer, or something of that sort.”
“What, an engineer on a railroad?” inquired Jerry, who supposed an engineer must be a man who runs a steam-engine.
“No; a civil engineer; a man that plans public works, such as roads and bridges and aqueducts and draining, etc.,” replied Clinton. “And then, again,” he added, “sometimes I think I’ll stick to farming; only I shouldn’t like to settle down in this little town. If I go into that business, I want one of those great farms out West, that we read about. But I don’t know; I can’t make up my mind what I do want to be. I mean to get the best education I can, though, and I’m not afraid but I can turn it to good account, when I do settle down in some business.”
It must be confessed that Clinton was rather ambitious. Though his preferences had not settled decidedly upon any profession, it was evident that he expected to make his mark in the world. His father sometimes tried to check this boyish ambition, so eager, exuberant, and all-confident; but, after all, he felt pretty sure that time would correct the fault, and that these ambitious dreams would, in a few years, be chastened down into a very proper and laudable spirit of thrift and enterprise.
“I suppose you’ve heard nothing from your father yet?” inquired Clinton, as Jerry was about leaving.
“No,” replied Jerry.
“Well,” added Clinton, “father and I were talking the matter over yesterday, and we came to the conclusion that if he didn’t get home this week, we’d go over to your place and put in an acre or two of corn and potatoes, just to get things started. Now you’ve come home, if we and Mr. Jenkins help you a little, perhaps you might get almost half the planting done before your father gets back. That would be a pleasant surprise to him, wouldn’t it?”
“Father’ll be home before next Saturday night; there’s no doubt about that,” was all the reply that Jerry made to this kind offer.