GRANT WALKS TO SOMERSET
Godfrey Thornton, Grant’s
uncle, lived in the neighboring town of Somerset.
He was an old bachelor, three years older than his
brother, the minister, and followed the profession
of a lawyer. His business was not large, but
his habits were frugal, and he had managed to save
up ten thousand dollars. Grant had always been
a favorite with him, and having no son of his own
he had formed the plan of sending him to college.
He was ambitious that he should be a professional
man.
It might have been supposed that he
would have felt disposed to assist his brother, whose
scanty salary he knew was inadequate to the needs
of a family. But Godfrey Thornton was an obstinate
man, and chose to give assistance in his own way,
and no other. It would be a very handsome thing,
he thought, to give his nephew a college education.
And so, indeed, it would. But he forgot one thing.
In families of limited means, when a boy reaches the
age of fifteen or sixteen he is very properly expected
to earn something toward the family income, and this
Grant could not do while preparing for college.
If his uncle could have made up his mind to give his
brother a small sum annually to make up for this, all
would have been well. Not that this idea had
suggested itself to the Rev. John Thorn-ton.
He felt grateful for his brother’s intentions
toward Grant, and had bright hopes of his boy’s
future. But, in truth, pecuniary troubles affected
him less than his wife. She was the manager,
and it was for her to contrive and be anxious.
After Grant had arranged the matters
referred to in the preceding chapter, he told his
mother that he proposed to go to Somerset to call
on his uncle.
“No, Grant, I don’t object,
though I should be sorry to have you lose the chance
of an education.”
“I have a very fair education
already, mother. Of course I should like to go
to college, but I can’t bear to have you and
father struggling with poverty. If I become a
business man, I may have a better chance to help you.
At any rate, I can help you sooner. If I can
only induce Uncle Godfrey to give you the sum my education
would cost him, I shall feel perfectly easy.”
“You can make the attempt, my
son, but I have doubts about your success.”
Grant, however, was more hopeful.
He didn’t see why his uncle should object, and
it would cost him no more money. It seemed to
him very plain sailing, and he set out to walk to
Somerset, full of courage and hope.
It was a pretty direct road, and the
distance—five miles—was not
formidable to a strong-limbed boy like Grant.
In an hour and a half he entered the village, and
soon reached the small one-story building which served
his uncle as an office.
Entering, he saw his uncle busy with
some papers at his desk.
The old lawyer raised his eyes as the door opened.
“So it’s you, Grant, is it?” he
said. “Nobody sick at home, eh?”
“No, Uncle Godfrey, we are all well.”
“I was afraid some one might
be sick, from your coming over. However, I suppose
you have some errand in Somerset.”
“My only errand is to call upon you, uncle.”
“I suppose I am to consider
that a compliment,” said the old bachelor, not
ill pleased. “Well, and when are you going
to be ready for college?”
“I can be ready to enter in September,”
replied Grant.
“That is good. All you
will have to do will be to present yourself for examination.
I shall see you through, as I have promised.”
“You are very kind, Uncle Godfrey,”
said Grant; and then he hesitated.
“It’s Thornton family
pride, Grant. I want my nephew to be somebody.
I want you to be a professional man, and take a prominent
place in the world.”
“Can’t I be somebody without
becoming a professional man, or—–”
“Or, what?” asked his uncle, abruptly.
“Getting a college education?” continued
Grant.
“What does this mean?”
asked the old lawyer, knitting his brow. “You’re
not getting off the notion of going to college, I hope?”
“I should like to go to college, uncle.”
“I’m glad to hear that,”
said Godfrey Thornton, relieved. “I thought
you might want to grow up a dunce, and become a bricklayer
or something of that kind.”
Somehow Grant’s task began to
seem more difficult than he had anticipated.
“But,” continued Grant,
summoning up his courage, “I am afraid it will
be rather selfish.”
“I can’t say I understand
you, Grant. As long as I am willing to pay your
college bills, I don’t see why there is anything
selfish in your accepting my offer.”
“I mean as regards father and mother.”
“Don’t I take you off their hands?
What do you mean?”
“I mean this, Uncle Godfrey,”
said Grant, boldly, “I ought to be at work earning
money to keep them. Father’s income is very
small, and—”
“You don’t mean to say
you want to give up going to college?” said
Godfrey Thornton, hastily.
“I think I ought to, uncle.”
“Why?”
“So that I can find work and
help father along. You see, I should be four
years in college, and three years studying a profession,
and all that time my brother and sister would be growing
older and more expensive, and father would be getting
into debt.”
Uncle Godfrey’s brow wore a perceptible frown.
“Tell me who has put this idea
into your head?” he said. “I am sure
it isn’t your father.”
“No one put it into my head, Uncle Godfrey.
It’s my own idea.”
“Humph! old heads don’t
grow on young shoulders, evidently. You are a
foolish boy, Grant. With a liberal education you
can do something for your family.”
“But it is so long to wait,” objected
Grant.
“It will be a great disappointment
to me to have you give up going to college, but of
course I can’t force you to go,” said his
uncle, coldly. “It will save me three hundred
dollars a year for four years-I may say for seven,
however. You will be throwing away a grand opportunity.”
“Don’t think I undervalue
the advantage of a college training, uncle,”
said Grant, eagerly. “It isn’t that.
It’s because I thought I might help father.
In fact, I wanted to make a proposal to you.”
“What is it?”
“You say it will cost three
hundred dollars a year to keep me in college?”
“Well?”
“Would you be willing to give
father two hundred a year for the next four years,
and let me take care of myself in some business place?”
“So this is your proposal, is it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All I have got to say is, that
you have got uncommon assurance. You propose
to defeat my cherished plan, and want me to pay two
hundred dollars a year in acknowledgment of your consideration.”
“I am sorry you look upon it in that light,
Uncle Godfrey.”
“I distinctly decline your proposal.
If you refuse to go to college, I wash my hands of
you and your family. Do you understand that?”
“Yes, Uncle Godfrey,” answered Grant,
crestfallen.
“Go home and think over the
matter. My offer still holds good. You can
present yourself at college in September, and, if you
are admitted, notify me.”
The lawyer turned back to his writing,
and Grant understood that the interview was over.
In sadness he started on his return
walk from Somerset. He had accomplished nothing
except to make his uncle angry. He could not
make up his mind what to do.
He had walked about four miles when
his attention was sharply drawn by a cry of terror.
Looking up quickly, he saw a girl of fourteen flying
along the road pursued by a drunken man armed with
a big club. They were not more than thirty feet
apart, and the situation was critical.
Grant was no coward, and he instantly
resolved to rescue the girl if it were a possible
thing.