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Walter opened it, saw that it was in Charlie's handwriting, and read:--
_MY LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT._
_I leave to my dear mamma my gold-clasped Bible, my trunk, and all my clothes, except my new green cloth roundabout, which I leave to cousin John, because he likes it, and it just fits him. To my papa I leave my pictures of Jesus Christ stilling the Tempest, and the fight between the "Const.i.tution" and "Guerriere," my seal of Hope and the Anchor, and the "Voyages of Captain Cook." To my sister Clara I leave my canaries, my pet squirrel, my flowers, and all my fairy story-books. To my brother Walter I give the rest of my library, my chessboard and men, my battledores and shuttlec.o.c.k, my rabbits, my dog, and my white pony; and when I am dead, I hope he will believe I have loved him dearly._
_CHARLES HARRISON._
Walter wept bitterly over this will; but when he had grown calm, he said, "May I go to him, mother?" "If you will promise not to disturb him," she answered. Walter promised, and stole softly into the chamber, where Charlie was now alone, sleeping quietly. He knelt down by the bed-side, hid his face in the counterpane, and silently prayed G.o.d to forgive all his sins, to give him a better heart, and to make his brother well again. Suddenly he felt a soft hand laid on his head. He looked up, and Charlie's mild blue eyes were smiling on him. "Come and sit near me," he said; and Walter then lifted a chair to the bed-side, and read to him out of the sacred Volume.
While they were thus engaged, they heard some unusual noise below, and then their mother coming upstairs with some one who stepped a little heavier. It was their father, returned from his longest and last sea voyage! Now he promised to stay at home with them always.
[Ill.u.s.tration: WALTER AT HIS BROTHER'S BED-SIDE.]
The return of Captain Harrison did more than medicine to cure his little son, who soon became stronger than he had ever been before.
One afternoon, when Charlie had been a fortnight about the house, it was arranged that he should take a short ride on his white pony, soon after breakfast the next day.
When Walter came down in the morning, his mother kissed him more tenderly than usual, and his father, shaking hands with him heartily, wished him many happy returns of the day. Walter looked as though he did not know what to make of this, and his mother said, "Why, my son, is it possible you have forgotten this is your birthday?"
"Ah, yes, mamma," he answered; "I only remembered that it was Charlie's first day out."
"And so," said his father, "you are to give him a ride; pray, what are _you_ to do?"
"Oh, I'll trot along by his side, on foot. I believe I can outrun that pony now."
When breakfast was over, Walter helped his brother into the saddle, and was arranging the bridle, when Charlie called out, joyfully, "Look there, brother!" pointing with his riding-whip to another white pony, somewhat larger than his own, standing on the other side of the yard.
Walter ran to it, took off a slip of paper which was pinned to the rein, and read: "Will Walter, our first-born and beloved son, accept this birthday gift from his parents?"
Walter laid his face against the slender, arching neck of his beautiful pony, and burst into tears. But he was too happy to weep long; he soon ran into the house, thanked and kissed his father and mother, ran out again, mounted, and rode off with his brother.
They had a fine ride. They had many fine rides together in the years that followed; for Charlie continued to improve, till he became quite strong and vigorous. As for Walter, he always kept his robust health; he did not grow to be handsome, but he became what is far better, truly amiable and agreeable. Even Aunt Hannah Perkins grew to liking him at last; and Uncle Walter Rogers, who sent him to college, has been heard to declare that he shall leave him all his fortune--knowing that he will not h.o.a.rd it like a miser, nor waste it like a spend-thrift, but so use it as to do a great deal of good, and make a great many people happy.
But I do not believe that the writing that gives to Walter Harrison a large sum of money, land, and houses, will ever be so dear to him as a little sc.r.a.p of paper, which he keeps among his most valuable and sacred things in his private desk, and on which he has written, "LITTLE CHARLIE'S WILL."
[Ill.u.s.tration]
[Ill.u.s.tration: WHATSOEVER A MAN SOWETH THAT SHALL HE ALSO REAP]
The Student and Apprentice.
"How far is it from here to the sun, Jim?" asked Harman Lee of his father's apprentice, James Wallace, in a tone of light raillery.
James Wallace, a boy of fourteen, turned his intelligent eyes upon the son of his master, and after regarding him for a moment, replied,--
"I don't know, Harman. How far is it?"
There was something so honest and earnest in the tone of the boy, that, much as Harman had felt at first disposed to sport with his ignorance, he could not refrain from giving him a true answer. Still his contempt for the ignorant apprentice was not to be concealed, and he replied,--
"Ninety-five millions of miles, you ignoramus!"
James did not retort; but repeating over in his mind the distance named, fixed it indelibly upon his memory.
On the same evening, after he had finished his day's work, he obtained a small text-book on astronomy, which belonged to Harman Lee, and went up into his garret; and there alone, seated by a f.a.got-fed fire, he attempted to dive into the mysteries of that sublime science. As he read, the earnestness of his attention fixed nearly every fact upon his mind. So intent was he, that he perceived not the pa.s.sage of time, and was only called back to a consciousness of where he was by the sudden sinking of the wick of his candle into the melted ma.s.s of tallow that had filled the cup of his candlestick. In another moment he was in total darkness. The cry of the watchman told him that the hours had flown until it was past eleven o'clock.
[Ill.u.s.tration: SEEKING KNOWLEDGE.]
Slowly undressing himself in his dark chamber, his mind recurring with a strong interest to what he had been reading, he laid himself down upon his hard bed, and gave full play to his thoughts. Hour after hour pa.s.sed away, but he could not sleep, so absorbed was he in reviewing the new and wonderful things he had read. At last wearied nature gave way, and he fell off in a slumber, filled with dreams of planets, moons, comets, and fixed stars. On the next morning the apprentice boy resumed his place at the work-bench with a new feeling; and with this feeling was mingled one of regret that he could not go to school as did his master's son.
"But I can study at night while he is asleep," he said to himself.
Just then Harman Lee came into the shop, and approaching James, said, for the purpose of teasing him,--
"How big round is the earth, Jim?"
"Twenty-five thousand miles," was the prompt answer.
Harman looked surprised for a moment, and then responded with a sneer--for he was not a kind-hearted boy, but, on the contrary, very selfish, and disposed to injure rather than do good to others--"Oh dear, how wonderful wise you are! No doubt you can tell how many moons Jupiter has? Come, let us hear."
"Jupiter has four moons," answered James, with something of exultation in his tone.
"And no doubt you can tell how many rings it has?"
"Jupiter has no rings. Saturn has rings, and Jupiter belts," replied James, in a decisive tone.
For a moment or two Harman was silent with surprise and mortification, to think that his father's apprentice, whom he esteemed so far below him, should be possessed of knowledge equal to his on the points in reference to which he had chosen to question him; and that he should be able to convict him of an error into which he had purposely fallen.
"I should like to know how long it is since you became so wonderful wise," Harman at length said, with a sneer.
"Not very long," replied James, calmly. "I have been reading one of your books on astronomy."
"Well, you are not going to have my books, mister, I can tell you.
Anyhow, I should like to know what business you had to touch one of them? Let me catch you at it again, and see if I don't cuff you soundly.
You had better a great deal be minding your work."
"But I did not neglect my work, Harman. I read at night, after my work was done. And I did not hurt your book."
"I don't care, if you didn't hurt it. You are not going to have my books, I can tell you. So do you just let them alone."
Poor James's heart sunk in his bosom at this unexpected obstacle thrown in his way. He had no money of his own to buy one, and knew of no one from whom he could borrow the book that had all at once become necessary to his happiness.
"Do, Harman," he said, appealingly; "lend me the book. Indeed I will take good care of it."