The boy awkwardly opened the book he held in his hand, which Mr.

Phillotson had bestowed on him as a parting gift, and admitted that

he was sorry.

"So am I," said Mr. Phillotson.

"Why do you go, sir?" asked the boy.

"Ah--that would be a long story. You wouldn't understand my reasons,

Jude. You will, perhaps, when you are older."

"I think I should now, sir."

"Well--don't speak of this everywhere. You know what a university

is, and a university degree? It is the necessary hallmark of a man

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who wants to do anything in teaching. My scheme, or dream, is to be

a university graduate, and then to be ordained. By going to live at

Christminster, or near it, I shall be at headquarters, so to speak,

and if my scheme is practicable at all, I consider that being on the

spot will afford me a better chance of carrying it out than I should

have elsewhere."

The smith and his companion returned. Old Miss Fawley's fuel-house

was dry, and eminently practicable; and she seemed willing to give

the instrument standing-room there. It was accordingly left in

the school till the evening, when more hands would be available for

removing it; and the schoolmaster gave a final glance round.

The boy Jude assisted in loading some small articles, and at nine

o'clock Mr. Phillotson mounted beside his box of books and other

_impedimenta_, and bade his friends good-bye.

"I shan't forget you, Jude," he said, smiling, as the cart moved off.

"Be a good boy, remember; and be kind to animals and birds, and read

all you can. And if ever you come to Christminster remember you hunt

me out for old acquaintance' sake."

The cart creaked across the green, and disappeared round the corner

by the rectory-house. The boy returned to the draw-well at the edge

of the greensward, where he had left his buckets when he went to help

his patron and teacher in the loading. There was a quiver in his lip

now and after opening the well-cover to begin lowering the bucket he

paused and leant with his forehead and arms against the framework,

his face wearing the fixity of a thoughtful child's who has felt the

pricks of life somewhat before his time. The well into which he was

looking was as ancient as the village itself, and from his present

position appeared as a long circular perspective ending in a shining

disk of quivering water at a distance of a hundred feet down.

There was a lining of green moss near the top, and nearer still the

hart's-tongue fern.




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