"Well, why not be a soldier?"
Philip Hexton shook his head.
"No, father. There's something very brave in a soldier's career; but I
should like to save life, not destroy it."
"You would save life in times of trouble; fight for your country, and
that sort of thing."
"No, father; I shall not be a soldier."
"A sailor, then?"
"I have not sufficient love of adventure, father."
"Oh no, my boy, don't be a sailor," said Mrs Hexton piteously. "I have
had sufferings enough over your father's risks in the mine."
"No, no, Phil; you must not be a sailor," said sturdy, grey-haired old
Hexton, laughing. "I should never get a wink of sleep if you did.
Every time the wind blew your mother would be waking me up to ask me if
I didn't think you were wrecked."
"No, dear; I shall not be a sailor," said Philip Hexton; and leaving his
chair at the breakfast table he went round to his mother's side, sank
down on one knee, passed his arm around her, and drew her to his broad
breast.
It was a pleasant sight to see the look of pride come into the mother's
face, as she laid one hand upon her son's shoulder, and pressed a few
loose strands of hair away from his thoughtful forehead, which wrinkled
slightly, and there was a look of anxiety in his face as he looked
tenderly at the loving woman.
"That's right, Phil dear," she said; "don't choose any life that is full
of risks."
"Don't try to make a milksop of him, mother," said Mr Hexton, laughing.
"Why, one would think Phil was ten years old, instead of twenty. I
say, my boy, had she aired your night-cap for you last night, and warmed
the bed?"
"Well, I must confess to the warm bed, father," said the young man. "A
night-cap I never wear."
"I thought so," said Mr Hexton, chuckling. "You must not stop at home,
Phil. She'll want you to have camomile tea three times a week."
"You may joke as much as you like, Hexton," said his wife, bridling,
"but no one shall ever say that I put anybody into a damp bed; and as
for the camomile tea, many a time has it given you health when you have
been ailing."
"Why, you don't think I ever took any of the stuff you left out for me,
do you?"
"Of course, dear."
"Never took a glass of it," said Old Hexton, chuckling. "Threw it all
out of the window."
"Then it was a great shame," said Mrs Hexton angrily, "and a very bad
example to set to your son."
"Never mind, Phil; don't you take it," chuckled Mr Hexton. Then
becoming serious he went on: "Well, there's no hurry, my boy; only now
that you are back from Germany, and can talk High Dutch and Low Dutch,
and French, and all the rest of it, why it is getting time to settle
what you are to do. I could allow you so much a year, and let you be a
gentleman, with nothing to do, if I liked; but I don't hold with a young
fellow going through life and being of no use--only a tailor's dummy to
wear fine clothes."
"Oh no, father; I mean to take to a business life," said Philip Hexton
quickly.
"Of course, my lad; and you'll do well in it. I began life in a pair of
ragged breeches that didn't fit me, shoving the corves of coal in a
mine; and now," he exclaimed proudly, "I'm partner as well as manager in
our pit. So what I say is, if I could do what I have done, beginning
life in a pair of ragged breeches that didn't fit me, why, what can my
boy do, as has had a first-class education, and can have money to back
him?"
"My dear James," said Mrs Hexton, "I do wish you would not be so fond
of talking about those--those--"
"Ragged breeches, mother?" said the old fellow, chuckling; "but I will.
That's her pride, Phil, my boy. Now she wears caps made of real lace,
she wants to forget how humble she used to be."
"Nothing of the kind, James," said the pleasant lady tartly; "I'm not
ashamed of our humble beginnings, but I am ashamed to make vulgar
remarks."
"That's a knock-down, Phil, my boy," said Mr Hexton. "There, I won't
mention them again, mother. But come, we are running away from our
subject. I'm heartily glad to see you back, Phil," he cried; and there
was a little moisture gathered in his eyes as he spoke; "and I thank God
to see that you have grown into so fine, healthy, and sturdy a fellow.
God bless you, my boy! God bless you!"
He had left his seat at the foot of the table, and came round to stand
beside his son, patting his shoulder, and then taking and wringing his
hand. He half bent down, too, once, as if to kiss the broad sunburnt
forehead, but altered his mind directly, as he thought it would be weak,
and ended by going and sitting down once more.
"There's plenty of time, of course," he said, "but somehow I shouldn't
dislike to have it settled. Have you ever thought about the matter,
Phil?"
"Yes, father, deeply," said the young man, rising, and then standing
holding his mother's hand. "I like sport, and games, and a bit of
idleness sometimes, especially for a Continental trip."
"Well, if you call that idleness, Phil," said the elder, rubbing his
legs, "give me the hardest day's work in the pit. Remember our climbing
up the Gummy Pass, mother, last year?"
"Oh, don't talk about it, father," said the old lady. "But then we are
not so young as we used to be. Go on, Philip, my dear."
She held on tightly by her son's hand as she spoke, and kept gazing up
at him with a wonderfully proud look.
"Well, father, as I say, I like a bit of change."
"Of course, my lad; all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."
"But I think it is the duty of every young man--boy, if you like,
mother," he said, smiling.
"Young man, Philip," she replied, "for I'm sure you've grown into a very
fine young man."
"Ugly as possible," growled the father, with a twinkle in his eye.
"I'm sure he's a much finer and handsomer young man than you were when I
married you, father!" said the old lady with spirit.
"Oh, of course!" chuckled Mr Hexton; "he's lovely! Phil, boy, pray use
scented soap and plenty of pomatum."
"Come, father, let's set aside joking for the time," said Philip
quietly. "I'm very glad to get home again, and to find my mother so
proud and happy to have me back--and you, too, sir."
Mr Hexton nodded, and changed his position a little.
"You want to know what I mean to settle to be, sir?"
"Yes, my boy; I should like to know."
"Well, father, I'll tell you, for I have thought of it long and deeply,
and I have studied chemistry a good deal for that end."
"Bravo, Phil!" said Mr Hexton. "A doctor, mother; I thought as much."
"No, sir, not a doctor; though I think a medical man's a grand
profession, and one only yet in its infancy. But I want to be of some
use, father, in my career. I want to save life as a medical man does.
You know the old saying, father?"
"About getting the wrong pig by the ear, as I did?"
"No, sir; about prevention being better than cure."
"Yes, my boy; but what are you going to prevent instead of cure?"
"I want to prevent so much loss of life in our coal-pits, father."
"Oh, my boy, my boy," cried Mrs Hexton passionately; "don't say you
want to take up your father's life!"
"Why not, mother dear?" said the young man firmly; "would it not be a
good and a useful life, to devote one's self to the better management of
our mines--to studying nature's forces, and the best way of fighting
them for the saving of life?"
"But, my boy, my boy, think of the risks!"
"I didn't spend hundreds on your education to have you take to a pit
life," growled Mr Hexton.
"Oh, my boy, it is such a dangerous life. The hours of misery we pass
no one knows," cried Mrs Hexton, wringing her hands.
"Mother," said the young man, "it is to endeavour to save mothers and
wives and children from suffering all these pains; for I would strive to
make our mines so safe that the men could win the coal almost without
risk. And as for education, father," he said proudly, as he turned to
the stern, grey, disappointed man, "is it not by knowledge that we are
able to battle with ignorance and prejudice? Don't regret what you have
given me, father."
"But it seems all thrown away if you are going to be nothing better than
overseer of a mine."
"Oh, no," said the young man smiling, "it will give me the means for
better understanding the task I have in hand; and if, mother, I can only
save four or five families from the terrible sufferings we know of, I
shall not have worked all in vain."
"No, my boy, no," said Mrs Hexton mournfully.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "knowing what I have of pit life, it has made me
wretched scores of times to read some terrible account of the long roll
of unfortunates burned, suffocated, or entombed, to die in agonies of
starvation and dread. Don't be disappointed, father, but let me make my
effort, and work with you."
The elder seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then held out his hand.
"No, Phil," he said, "I won't stand in your way. I'm disappointed
because I wanted you to be something better, but--"
"Better, father! Could you find a better man than Davy, whom we bless
for his lamp?"
"Which the reckless donkeys will open in a dangerous gallery," cried Mr
Hexton angrily. "No, my boy; Humphry Davy was a man indeed, and if you
turned out half as good, or a quarter, I should be proud of you."
"That I shall never be, father," said the young man; "but I mean to
try."