There was something, too, of welcome in their ways that was pleasant to
me in my desolate position, for just then I seemed as if I had not one
friend in the world; and even Mr Brownsmith seemed strange and cold,
and as if he would be very glad when I was gone and he could get along
with his work.
"There, there," he cried suddenly, "we mustn't fret about it, you know.
It's what we must all come to, and I don't hold with people making it
out dreadful. It's very sad, boy, so it is. Dull weather too. When
all my trees and plants die off for the winter, we don't call that
dreadful, because we know they'll all bud and leaf and blossom again
after their long sleep; and so it is with them as has gone away. There,
there, there, you must try to be a man."
"Yes, sir," I said; "I am trying very hard."
"That's the way," he cried; "that's the way;" and he clapped me on the
shoulder. "To be sure it is hard work, though, when you are on'y twelve
or thirteen years old."
"Yes, sir."
"But look here, boy, there's a tremendous deal done by a lad who makes
up his mind to try; do you see?"
"Yes sir, I see," I said, looking at him wonderingly, for he did not
seem to want to get rid of me now, as he was holding me tightly by the
arm.
"'Member coming for the strawberries?" he said drily.
"Yes, sir."
"Thought me a disagreeable old fellow, didn't you then?"
I hesitated, but he looked at me sharply.
"Yes, sir, I did then," I said. "I did not know how kind you could be."
"That's just what I am," he said gruffly; "very disagreeable."
I shook my head.
"I am," he said. "Ask any of my men and women. Here--what's going to
become of you, my lad--what are you going to be--soldier like your
father?"
"Oh no!" I said.
"What then?"
"I don't know, sir. I believe I am to wait till my uncles and my
father's cousin have settled."
"How many of them are to settle it, boy?"
"Four, sir."
"Four, eh, my boy! Ah, then I suppose it will take a lot of settling!
You'll have to wait."
"Yes, sir, I've got to wait," I said.
"But have you no prospects?"
"Oh yes, sir!" I said. "I believe I have."
"Well, what?"
"My uncle Frederick said that I must make up my mind to go somewhere and
earn my own living."
"That's a nice prospect."
"Yes, sir."
He was silent for a moment or two, and then smiled.
"Well, you're right," he said. "It is a nice prospect, though you and I
were thinking different things. I like a boy to make up his mind to
earn his living when he is called upon to do it. Makes him busy and
self-reliant--makes a man of him. Did he say how?"