His mind turned now very frequently to the consideration of work other
than that of teaching. He made a mental catalogue of the things that
were immediately possible to him: teaching, the ministry of the
Presbyterian Church, the shop ... and ruled them all out of his list.
The thought of soldiering or of going to sea lingered in his mind for a
long time ... because he associated soldiering and sailoring with
travel in strange places ... but he abandoned that thought when he
balanced the tradition of his class against the Army, and Navy. All the
men of his acquaintance who had joined the Army or the Navy had done
so, either because they were in disgrace or because they were unhappy
at home. It was generally considered that in joining either of the
Services, they had brought shame upon their families, less, perhaps in
the case of the Navy than in the case of the Army. In any event, his
Uncle William's statement that a MacDermott could not endure to be
ordered about by any one settled his mind for him on that subject. He
would have to get his adventures in other ways. He might emigrate to
America. He had a cousin in New York and one in Chicago. He might go to
Canada or Australia or South Africa ... digging for gold or diamonds!
There was nothing in Ireland that attracted him ... all the desirable
things were in distant places. Farming in Canada or Australia had a
romantic attraction that was not to be found in farming in Ireland. He
had _seen_ farmers in Ireland ... and he did not wish to be like
them!
But, no matter how much he considered the question, he came no nearer
to a solution of it.
He would go out to the fields that lay on the shores of the Lough,
going one day to this side, and another day to that, and lie down in
the sunshine and dream of a brilliant career. He might go into
parliament and become a great statesman, like that man, Lord Salisbury,
who had come to Belfast once during the Home Rule agitation. Or he
might turn Nationalist and divert himself by roaring in the House of
Commons against the English! He wished that he could write poetry ...
if he could write poetry, he might become famous. There was an old
exercise book at home, full of poems that he had made up when he was
much younger, about Ireland and the Pope and Love and Ballyards ... but
they were poor things, he knew, although Mr. Cairnduff, to whom he had
shown them, had said that, considering the age John was when he wrote
them, they might have been a great deal worse. Mr. Cairnduff had given
generous praise to a long poem on the election of a Nationalist for the
city of Derry, beginning with this wail:
_Oh, Derry, Derry, what have you done?
Sold your freedom to Home Rule's son!_
but neither Uncle William nor Uncle Matthew had had much to say for it.
Uncle William said that his father would not have liked to think of his
son writing a poem full of sentiments of that sort, and Uncle Matthew
went upstairs to the attic and brought down, a copy of _Romeo and
Juliet_ and presented it to him. But Mrs. MacDermott was pleased in
a queer way. She hoped he was not going to take up politics, but she
was glad that he was not a Home Ruler!
Sometimes, when he had been much younger than he now was ... John
always thought of himself as a man of great age ... he had resolved
that he would become a writer; but although he began many stories and
solemn books ... there was one called, _The Errors of Rome_ in
which the Papists were to be finally and conclusively exposed ... none
of them were ever finished. Then had come a phase of preaching. His
mother read the _Christian Herald_ every week, and John would get
a table cloth, and wrap it round himself to represent a surplice ...
for the Church of Ireland was more decorative than the Presbyterian
Church ... and deliver the sermons of Dr. Talmage and Mr. Spurgeon in a
loud sing-song voice that greatly delighted Mrs. MacDermott. That, too,
had passed, very swiftly indeed, because of the alarming discovery that
he was an atheist! He would never forget the sensation he had created
in school when he had suddenly turned to Willie Logan and said,
"Willie, I don't believe there's a God at all. It's all a catch!..."
Willie, partly out of fright, but chiefly because of his incorrigible
tendency to "clash," immediately reported him to Miss Gebbie, who had
been a teacher even then ... it seemed to him sometimes that Miss
Gebbie had always been a teacher and would never cease to be one ...
and she had converted him to a belief in God's existence at the point
of her bamboo....
Then came a time of mere dreaming of a future in which some beautiful
girl would capture all his mind and heart and service. He would rescue
her from a dire situation ... he would invent some wonderful thing that
would bring fame and fortune to him ... and he would offer all his fame
and fortune to her. His visions of this girl, constantly recurring,
prevented him from falling in love with any girl in Ballyards. When he
contrasted the girl of his dream with the girls he saw about him, he
could not understand how anyone could possibly love a Ballyards girl.
Aggie Logan!...
He would come away from the fields, pleased with his dreams, but still
as far from a solution of his problem as ever.