EBEN CATCHES A RIDE AND SOMETHING ELSE.
IT may be guessed that the breakfast at the little house was a very
pleasant one.
"Though, after all," said Flora when they were alone together, "it
seems to tie you up to the milling business, and I don't like that. I
never can give up the idea of your being a physician."
"Please don't talk about it, Flossy!" said Eben. "If it is best, you
may depend upon it the thing will be brought to pass, and if it is not
best, I don't want it—at least, I don't wish to want it," he added,
rather sadly, "and so I would rather not talk very much about it."
"I suppose that is the best way if one can bring one's mind to it,"
said Flora, rather reluctantly, "but I can't feel about those things as
you do—that if it is best it will certainly come to pass."
"You believe in God's word, don't you?" asked Eben.
"Of course."
"Well, don't you remember what he says—that all things work together
for good to them that love him, and that no good thing will he withhold
from them that walk uprightly?"
"And you think that is meant for you?" said Flora, with a slight touch
of sarcasm in her voice. "Don't you think that is taking a good deal on
yourself?"
"I don't see why," answered Eben, simply. "I am sure that I do love
him and try as well as I can to 'walk uprightly,' and I suppose his
promises are as much to me as to any one else."
"I am not sure about using the Bible in that way. I think it is for
general, and not for particular, application, as Mr. Smith said the
other night."
"I don't exactly see how that can be," answered Eben. "Suppose a law is
given out to a school: isn't it given to every scholar in the school?
Suppose Miss Hilliard should say, This school will have a holiday on
Thursday: wouldn't that mean that every scholar should have a holiday?"
"Well, perhaps so, but according to that, all we have to do is to wait
and do nothing till God sees fit to give us what we need."
"Partly right and partly wrong," said Eben. "We are to wait, but it
does not follow that we are to do nothing. You waited more than an hour
for Miss Barnard at the Cure the other day, but you were not doing
nothing. You wore making tatting as hard as you could all the time. The
tatting kept your time from being wasted, and Miss Barnard came just as
soon as though you had spent your time in doing nothing but fretting.
Now, the mill is my tatting."
Flora laughed. "There is no use in arguing with you, Eben. I found that
out long ago. Seriously, I am glad you feel so. It must be a great
comfort."
"It is," said Eben, emphatically, "the greatest comfort. I think I
should have broken my heart without it at the time that I made up my
mind to go to work."
"And yet you were so quiet about the matter that I almost thought at
times you really did not care. I wish I was like you."
"Well, I don't know that I do. One like me seems to be about as much as
I want. I like a little variety. But I do wish you saw as I do about
that, because I know what a comfort it is."
"Can you always feel so, Eben?"
"I can't always feel so, but I can always know so, and that is better,"
said Eben. "However, I must be off, for Mr. Antis is going away to
Syracuse."
Mr. Antis was very much hurried about getting away. One person after
another wanted him, and he stayed for some last words, till he had
barely time left to drive over to the Springs.
"There!" exclaimed Jeduthun, a few minutes after he had gone. "Mr.
Antis has left his pocket-book and papers behind him, after all—the
very thing he was going for. I don't know what ails him this morning.
He kind of goes round like a hen with her head cut off."
"So many people were wanting to see him," said Eben; "but what shall we
do?"
"There's Jem Carter going by; I dare say he has started for the
Springs. Hallo, Jem!" shouted Jeduthun from the window. "Going to the
Springs?"
"Ay! Want anything?" was the answer that came back.
"Can you take Eben over? I want to send a message to the boss if I can
catch him. Get your hat, boy, and button the things up in your inside
pocket. You mustn't let Jem see 'em."
"I understand," said Eben. "But give me a message, if Jem asks me about
it."
"Oh, well, tell Mr. Antis not to forget the new belt and the wrought
nails. Jem will drive fast if you coax him. He likes to show off that
mare of his'n, and I don't think he can be drunk by this time in the
morning."
Jem was not drunk. On the contrary, he was as straight as possible, and
in a very good humour. He was the son of a wealthy farmer, and had come
into possession of quite a large property at twenty-one, since which
time he had been good for very little. "A goodhearted fellow—nobody's
enemy but his own," was the remark many people made about him, but
unluckily no man can be his own enemy without being the enemy of
others besides himself, and that good-heartedness which is perfectly
consistent with breaking a mother's heart and robbing orphan sisters
is not very valuable. Jem was, however, as I said, quite straight this
morning, and very willing to oblige Eben by catching the train.
"Get on first-rate with Antis, don't you?" asked Jem.
"Oh yes," replied Eben. "He's a very easy man to get on with."
"I expect he is," said Jem. "Antis and I were schoolmates. He was
always a clever fellow, though not extra bright; but he has got on
well, and everybody respects him. He's Mr. Antis, he is. I'm nobody but
Jem Carter. That calls me so."
"Jeduthun didn't mean any harm," said Eben.
"Oh, I know it! He's a good fellow, too;" and Jem touched up the mare a
little.
"I wouldn't hurry her," said Eben. "She's doing very well now."
"Oh, I sha'n't hurt her, never you fear. She's about all the friend
I've got now, Eben," said Jem, with sudden emphasis and decision. "I
want to give you a piece of advice. I'm a poor shoat, I know, but
you may as well learn by my experience. Don't you never be coaxed or
bullied into drinking the first drop of liquor or making the first
bet—not the very first one. If you once begin, you never can know where
you will stop."
"I think you are right," said Eben. "My father used to say the same.
But, Mr. Carter, excuse me, but can't you stop drinking, and betting,
and such things, now?"
"No, I can't!" returned Jem, shortly. "I can't, and I don't know as I
want to. What's the use? I sha'n't live long, and I may as well have a
good time while I do live."
"And what then?" asked Eben, gently.
"Then I shall go to the devil, I suppose, and serve me right, too,"
said Jem, in a kind of angry despair.
"You needn't, Jem."
"Needn't what?"
"'Go to the devil,' as you say. You may stop now, and never take one
more stop downwards. You may turn your face towards heaven this very
minute."
"I can't believe that," said Jem. "I don't believe such a fellow as
I could ever be forgiven. You don't know, and I wouldn't tell you
for anything, how bad I have been. I should be ashamed to ask for
forgiveness."
"That's just the greatest mistake you ever made, Jem."
"I have made a great many mistakes, Eben."
"Well, you never made a worse mistake than that. I don't suppose the
thief on the cross was any better man than you are, and he was saved
at the very last minute, and you may be saved too, if you will. There
is more love in the Lord than there is sin in all the sinners in the
universe, as I heard old Father Badger say once."
"Now look here, Eben Fairchild! Do you dare to say that the Lord loves
me—me? Such a beast as I am?"
"You are not a beast; you are a man with an immortal soul, for whom the
Lord died, and I do dare to say that he loves you," said Eben, firmly.
"He loves you this very minute."
"If I thought that—" said Jem. "But I always thought he hated sinners?"
"For whom did he die if not for sinners? You haven't read your Bible to
much purpose, Jem."
"I don't think I have. I was taught to read it when I was young, but it
is many a day since I saw the inside of mine."
"But won't you see the inside of it now, Jem? Do!" said Eben, with
affectionate earnestness. "I am only a boy, but I know enough to be
sure that there is no need of your going to the devil, as you say, if
only you will choose to go the other way. I am sure of it—as sure as
that, that is the hotel at the Springs."
"There is the train just coming up, too," said Jem. "It will be a tight
jump, but I guess we will catch it. Come, old lady, do your best."
The mare seemed to understand the urgency of the case, for she flew
like the winds. Just as they turned the corner Jem said, cheerfully:
"There! You'll be in time to jump on if you're spry. I say, Eben, when
you say your prayers just put in a word for me, will you?"
"Indeed I will, Jem. Thank you ever so much."
"I'm the one to thank you, I reckon. There! Don't stop."
The bell had just sounded as Eben jumped on the last car.
"I shall get carried off as sure as the world," he said to himself as
he walked through the train, "but I don't care. I can stop at the next
station. Where is Mr. Antis, I wonder?"
He went on through all the cars without finding the man he sought till
he came to the drawing-room car, when the young coloured person in
charge rather demurred as to his entering.
"I guess you don't want to come in here, sonny," said he, with
condescending politeness. "Them that comes in here pays a dollar extry."
"I want to find a gentleman who got on board at the Springs," said
Eben. "He left some important papers behind him, which I was sent to
carry to him."
"Oh, well, that alters the case," replied Mr. Johnson. "If you's
got business, it's all right. I guess I know the man you mean—a
light-complected gentleman with a beard, ain't he?"
Eben assented.
"Well, then, you'll find him in the saloon a-talking to Dr. Henry. Go
right along through, and you'll come to him."
Eben walked on, rather dazzled by the splendor of the fine Pullman
car, till he reached the saloon, where he found Mr. Antis in close
conversation with Dr. Henry, and naturally rather surprised to see him.
"Why, Eben, what has brought you here? Has anything happened to Mrs.
Antis or the baby?" he asked, in sudden alarm.
"Oh no, sir, but I think you have forgotten something," replied Eben,
producing the pocket-book and papers. "Jeduthun found them after you
had gone, and I got a ride with Jem Carter, so I brought them over. I
guess I shall have to go on to the next station," he added, looking out
of the window of the car.
"It looks like it now," said the doctor, smiling.
"I couldn't help it," said Eben. "I only just jumped on the train as it
started."
"And suppose you had just fallen off the train and under it, what then?"
"Then I should have been killed, I suppose. But I took care not to
fall, and I knew Mr. Antis would lose his journey if he did not have
his pocket-book and papers."
"I should have lost more than my journey, I dare say," remarked Mr.
Antis. "I don't know how I happened to do such a thing. Doctor, this is
Eben Fairchild, son of an old acquaintance of yours."
"Oh yes, I remember you very well now, though you have grown since I
saw you," said the doctor, shaking hands with him. "And how are you
getting on, Eben?"
"Nicely, sir. I am working with Mr. Antis in the mill," replied Eben,
blushing with pleasure at being introduced to the famous doctor, whom
he had been accustomed to regard with much reverence.
"That's good; and what is your sister about?"
"Flora runs a sewing machine, and does very well by it," answered Eben.
"She gets a great deal of work from Miss Barnard and other ladies at
the Cure."
"Tell her not to work too hard. She will be getting consumption or
something worse if she does. Tell her from me she ought to take a walk
every day."
"I will, sir. I try to have her go out every day, but she is so afraid
of losing time. But here is my stopping-place, I suppose."
"You had better go on to Hobartown and wait there for the three-o'clock
train," said Mr. Antis. "I'll settle your passage, and there is
something to pay for your dinner. You will find it a more entertaining
place to wait than this."
"And I dare say you won't mind doing an errand for me," added the
doctor. "I want to send a note up to Dr. Porter at the college, and was
meaning to give it to some of the hackman, but if you will carry it for
me, I shall be much obliged. Go up to the medical college and ask for
Dr. Porter. He will be in the museum, I dare say."
"I wonder—" said Eben, and then he stopped, shocked at his own boldness.
"Well, you wonder what?" asked the doctor, good-naturedly.
"He wonders whether he can see the museum, I suppose," said Mr. Antis,
answering for Eben. "He has a great hankering after bones, and such
like. I found him the other day trying to put together a hen's skeleton
which he had cleaned up somehow."
"Is that so?" said the doctor. "Then he shall be gratified;" and he
wrote a few words at the bottom of his note. "There I have given you
an introduction to Dr. Porter, and he will show you any number of
skeletons and other cheerful objects of that description. But what did
you want to put the hen's skeleton together for?"
"I wanted to see how it went," replied Eben, finding his voice, which
he was rather apt to lose under the influence of any pleasurable
emotion. "Such things are so curious and interesting."
"You ought to study medicine," remarked the doctor. "Why don't you?"
"I only wish—" Eben began, but something choked him, and he turned away
and looked steadfastly out of the window.
Dr. Henry had a wonderful tact in understanding the feelings of those
about him. He saw that he had unwittingly touched a tender point, and
that the boy was trying hard to control his painful feelings. He turned
away and talked to Mr. Antis till they reached Hobartown.
"Here we are!" said he, cheerfully. "You won't have any trouble in
finding Dr. Porter, and I dare say you will make friends with him, for
he is a kind old man, and fond of young people."
"Thank you, sir. Does the note need an answer?"
"No; it is only to ask him to meet me at the train to-night."
"And, Eben, don't go to a saloon or any such place to get your dinner,"
added Mr. Antis. "Go to the hotel or to Williams's. There! Good-bye,
and have a nice time while you are here. You have saved me a great deal
of trouble."
"That boy seems to have a good deal in him," remarked Dr. Henry as the
train moved on.
"Indeed he has!" replied Mr. Antis. "You touched his heart when you
spoke of his studying medicine."
"So I saw. What is there about it?" Mr. Antis went over the particulars
of Eben's history. Dr. Henry listened with great interest, and asked a
good many questions.
"It's all nonsense about his going through college," said he when Mr.
Antis finished. "Colleges don't make doctors. If he has got it in him,
he had better go to work and study medicine directly. Not that any
amount of college learning would do him any hurt, of course, if he had
time for it, but he has neither time nor money, it seems."
"No, there's the rub. He has get to earn his own living, and he wants
to help his family; though, since the old lady has taken to going out
nursing, I fancy they do very well."
"Is he a steady boy?" was Dr. Henry's next question. "Does he do what
he undertakes, or does he work a little while at a thing and then get
tired of it?"
"He does what he undertakes, if it can possibly be done," replied
Mr. Antis. "He is not so quick as some, but he is the most perfectly
faithful boy I ever saw in my life. If I tell him to attend to
anything, I am sure to find it done, if it is a week afterwards. I
believe he worked a week at that hen's skeleton, but he seemed to get
it all right at last."
"Good!" said the doctor, emphatically. "That is the kind of boy I
like;" and looking out of the window, he fell into a reverie which
lasted all the way to Auburn.