WITH UNCLE JOHN AGAIN
It was noon, Christmas Day, when Austin stepped from the train at the
watering-station just outside his old home village. Oh, the joy of familiar
sights! He felt as if he should like to stoop and kiss the very earth under
his feet, he was so glad to be at home again. He had not gone far till he
saw familiar faces, but he did not stop, though all were glad to see him
back again. His one thought was to see once more his beloved uncle. He
hurried on, swinging his suitcase in his hand. For some reason it seemed
much lighter than at other stages in his journey. He could hardly keep his
feet on the ground, so light was his heart as he sped along.
At last the old farmhouse came in sight, and about the door were his
cousins, who were wondering if Austin could have come on that train. They
were expecting him any time and had a hearty welcome for him when he did
come. Aunt Tillie had the Christmas dinner just ready to sit down to when
the glad cry of the children announced Austin’s arrival. All of them were
at home that day to celebrate their last Christmas in the old house, for
their father had sold the homestead and they were to move the coming week.
It was with joy that the extra plate was laid for the wanderer.
“Well, well, Austin! you are here at last! I suppose you thought we never
intended to answer your letter,” said Uncle John laughing.
“I could not help wondering why you waited so long,” answered Austin
reproachfully, for he still felt grieved at his uncle’s neglect.
“Look at this and tell me if you wonder that I did not answer it,” said
Uncle John bringing out the card Austin had written him from Captain
Albright’s home three weeks before. To Austin’s surprize it was unsigned.
“How was I to know who wrote this?” asked his uncle with twinkling eyes,
“you will have to sign your name if you want money from me.”
“I do not see how I came to do anything like that,” said Austin, abashed at
his mistake.
“We never suspected you, and after talking it over at the supper-table we
all came to the conclusion that the card was from Wilbur, and that he had
gotten into some trouble and wanted help. He is so trifling that I decided
to let him fight his own battles, so paid no more attention to the matter,”
explained his uncle.
“I felt sorry for the poor fellow so after a week or more wrote the letter
you received,” said Frank, laughing.
“Then your answer came back to us all signed as it should be, but I thought
it was Will trying to trick me further, so still did nothing. In fact, I
had about forgotten the incident when a letter came from Amy telling us you
had left home. Then we knew the S. O. S. was your call and waked
immediately. That is why there was the long silence then the ticket by
telegram. We were afraid you had given up hearing from us and left that
place.”
When Uncle John had finished his explanation, all that had been dark to
Austin cleared away, and he laughed with the rest at the queer mix-up. It
relieved him to know that after all his uncle had not purposely neglected
him.
And that dinner! Was there ever another feast as good as this one? It was
indeed a table to tempt an appetite under any circumstances, and to Austin,
who had absolute peace of mind for the first time in weeks, it seemed more
delicious than could be expressed.
But before he had finished his dinner, thoughts of the little ones at home
and the Christmas dinner cooked by inexperienced hands came into his view,
and his own good fortune almost choked him. If only they, too, could have
eaten with Aunt Tillie! And he remembered, also, that only last Christmas
Mother was with them, and tears sprang to his eyes. How much had happened
in that year!
When the others had gone about their own affairs, John Moore took his young
nephew and had a long talk with him. Austin was free to tell him all that
had happened and why he had left home. Mr. Moore could understand how Henry
Hill had treated the boy, for he too had received evil for good at his
hands. He was sorry for the little ones, but hoped the sight of their needs
would waken the chords of real manhood which once stirred the heart of his
brother-in-law.
“Austin, I am pained at all you tell me and am sorry that it is going so
ill with dear Elizabeth’s children, but I can not see it our duty to bear
your father’s burdens. You are welcome here with us. To me you are like one
of my own sons, and I want you to feel as the weeks go by that you are at
home. I shall do by you just as I do by them.”
Tears filled Austin’s eyes at the kindness of his uncle, but the stinging
words of his father rang in his ears, “You could not exist a month on your
own resources,” and he was determined to make his own way and prove to him
that he could do for himself.
“No, Uncle John, I can not do that, though I appreciate your offer. I did
not come here to live off your money, but I want to find work and support
myself. I am strong enough to do it, and now that I have no care of the
children I can do it I am certain.”
“But, Austin, a boy like you should be in school. You are not yet fifteen,
and for a year you have not been in school to speak of. You can stay right
here and go every day,” urged Mr. Moore.
“No, Uncle, I do not want to do that now. I am almost out of clothing. All
I possess is in that suitcase, and I need to earn something for myself
right away. Besides, Papa said I could not look out for myself.” persisted
Austin.
“Humph! Well, if that is what is on your mind, I do not blame you for going
to work. Prove that you can take care of yourself and after that look out
for other things,” said Mr. Moore in hearty sympathy with the boy for
resenting his father’s taunt.
“I wish none of you would write anything home about me. I do not want Papa
to know where I am nor one thing about my affairs.”
“All right; I will inform the others of your wish. It will be hard on the
children, but as for Henry, he ought to do a little worrying.”
The next week was a busy one for the Moore household, and Austin helped
them with their moving, staying with them till the hard work was over, and
then found himself a place. This was not hard, for he was well known and
universally liked. Those who would hire him knew him to be reliable beyond
his years. The wages he received were small, pitifully so, but they were
sufficient to again clothe him suitably, and to give him that feeling of
independence and self-respect that is good for any boy.
Though he was satisfied with his present lot so far as his own self was
concerned, his mind was never at rest about the children. In spirit he
lived constantly with them, and was ever longing to return to them and bear
their burdens. Not once did he contemplate entirely forsaking them. He
believed the cloud which now overshadowed him and them would pass away and
he again be welcome under the home roof. He built great air-castles of the
time when he should become rich and return and care for them. But he could
not overcome the feeling of repugnance toward his father, nor did he really
try to do so.
When Austin had again fitted himself with a suitable wardrobe, he
remembered his uncle’s advice about going to school. Spring was at hand
now, and the country-school term at a close, so he could do nothing for the
present. But when Mr. Coles, a neighbor of his uncle’s, offered him a place
for the summer at reasonable wages with the understanding that when the
summer was over he might remain with him and attend school the coming
winter, Austin thought it wise to accept the offer, though the wages were
considerably less than he could have gotten elsewhere. He thought that the
lesser wage which Mr. Coles paid him would make his board right for the
coming winter, and he did not wish to get something for nothing.
So Austin all through the hot summer months worked away on the farm, of Mr.
Coles, doing anything and everything there was to be done. He plowed and
sowed and reaped, milked, and fed the calves and pigs, and worked in the
garden and orchard. Mr. Coles had a willing hand all the summer through.