He was too
big-hearted and generous to complain. Besides the world in which he
lived--the world of field and wood, of dog and gun, of game and the open
road was too beautiful and interesting to complain about it. He was glad
to be alive and tried to make his neighbors think as he did about it.
When the great day dawned the young mother eagerly prepared breakfast
for her children. She wouldn't allow Sarah to help this morning. It must
be a perfect day in her life. She washed the Boy's face and hands with
scrupulous care when the breakfast things were cleared away, and her
grey eyes were shining with a joy he had never seen before. He caught
her excitement and the spirit of it took possession of his imagination.
"What'll school be like, Ma?" he asked in a tense whisper.
"Oh, this one won't be very exciting; maybe in a little room built of
logs. But it's the beginning, Boy, of greater things. Just spelling,
reading, writing and arithmetic now--but you're starting on the way that
leads out of these silent, lonely woods into the big world where great
men fight and make history. Your father has never known this way. He's
good and kind and gentle and generous, but he's just a child, because
he doesn't know. You're going to be a man among men for your mother's
sake, aren't you?"
She seized his arms and gripped them in her eagerness until he felt the
pain.
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