Autumn again came, with its many-hued glories, and I must bid adieu to
the uncle and aunt who had been so kind to me for the two past years.
Looking forward two years seem a long period; but, as memory recalled
the evening of my first arrival at Uncle Nathan's, I could hardly
believe that two years had since then glided away. I had bid my kind
teacher and his family good-bye, and in the morning was to set out
on my homeward journey. I accompanied my uncle and aunt to grandma's
grave--a handsome head-stone of white marble had been erected, and I
enjoyed a melancholy pleasure in reading over and over again the
sculptured letters, stating her name and age, with the date of her
death. Eighty-five years, thought I, as my eye rested upon the figures
indicating her age, what a long, long life! and yet she often said that,
in looking back over her long life, it only seemed like a short troubled
dream; but it is all past now, and she rests in peace. We sat long at
the grave and talked of the loved one, now sleeping beneath that grassy
mound; till the deepening twilight hastened our departure. I could not
check the tears which coursed freely down my cheeks when I turned away
from the grave. Seated around the fireside that evening we talked of the
coming morrow when I was to leave them for an indefinite time, and they
both spoke of how doubly lonely the house would seem when I should be
gone. It hardly seemed to me that the aunt I was leaving was the same I
had found there, so softened and kind had she become. "It's not my way,"
said she, "to make many words; you have been a good, obedient boy Walter,
and I am sorry, that you must leave us, but we could not expect to keep
you always. Always do as you have done here, and you will get along, go
where you will; always look upon this house as a home, and if you ever
stand in need of a friend remember you have an Aunt Lucinda, who, if she
does fret and scold sometimes, has learned to love you very dearly, and
that is all I am going to say about it." It was well that she had no
wish to say more, for her voice grew tremulous before she had finished;
and these few words more than repaid me for the endeavours I had made to
please her during my stay with them. "My boy," said Uncle Nathan, "you
are now leaving us. I am not going to spoil you, by giving you money,
for if you wish to ruin a boy there is no surer way than by giving him
plenty of money; and I want to make a man of you, and have you learn to
depend on yourself and save your money: so at present I only intend
giving you enough money to bear the expenses of your journey home, and
buy any clothing you may require before going to a situation; but I have
deposited a sum of money, to remain on interest for six years; if your
life is spared, you will then be twenty-one years of age, and if you
make good use of your time, may save something yourself. I will not say
how large a sum I have deposited, but at any rate it will help you along
a little, if you should wish to go into business for yourself at that
time; and now you had best go to bed and sleep soundly, for you must be
up bright and early in the morning."
The good-byes were all said, and I was seated in the train which was
to convey me from Fulton. As the train passed out of the village I
rose from my seat to obtain a last look at the Academy whose white walls
shone through the trees which surrounded it. I suppose if the Widow
Green had been there she would at once have said I would never see the
Academy again, it being a saying of hers, "that to watch a place out of
sight was a sure sign we would never behold it again." I certainly tested
her saying upon this occasion, for I gazed upon the dear old Academy
till it faded in the distance from my sight, and since then I have both
seen and entered it. When my mother met me at the depot at Elmwood, I
could hardly believe the tall girl who accompanied her was my sister,
Flora, so much had she grown during the past year. I did not expect to
meet Charley Gray, as the holidays were all over long ago, but the good
Doctor and his wife were kind and friendly, indeed they had ever been so
to me. "Charley went away in the sulks because you failed to come home
during the holidays," said the Doctor with a good-humoured laugh, "but a
fit of the sulks is no very uncommon thing for him;" and then he added,
while a grave expression rested for a moment upon his face, "poor
Charley I hope he will get rid of that unhappy temper of his as he grows
older, if not it will destroy his happiness for life." "I am sure,"
replied I, "that Charley could not have been more anxious about it than
I was myself, but I could not leave Uncle Nathan till the fall." "So I
told him," said the Doctor, "but would you believe it, the fellow for a
while persisted in saying, you knew he was at home, and so stayed away
purposely, till he finally became ashamed of himself and owned that he
did not really think so, and only said it because he was provoked by
your not coming home; you see he is the same unreasonable Charley that
he ever was, but it is to be hoped he will in time, become wiser."
I was glad to find myself again at home; much as I might love another
place, Elmwood was my home. My favorite tree in the garden looked doubly
beautiful, clothed as it was with deep green, while the foliage had long
since been stripped from those surrounding it by the frosts and winds of
November.