Hills of the Shatemuc Part 42

But father and mother were deep in the precious despatches, and the answer had to be waited for.

"s.h.a.garack College, Dec. 1810.

"My dear friends at home,

"This funny little man says he will take letters to you; -- so as it is a pity not to cultivate any good disposition, Governor and I have determined to favour him. But really there is not much to write about. Our prospects are as bare as your garden in November -- nothing but roots above ground or under -- some thrown together, and some, alas! to be dug for; only ours are not parsnips and carrots but a particularly tasteless kind called _Greek_ roots; with a variety denominated _algebraic_, of which there are quant.i.ties. At these roots, or at some branches from the same, Governor and I are tugging as for dear life, so it is no wonder if our very hands smell of them. I am sure I eat them every day with my dinner, and _ruminate_ upon them afterwards. In the midst of all this we are as well as usual. Governor is getting along splendidly; and I am not much amiss; at least so they say. The weather is pretty stinging these few days, and I find father's old cloak very useful. I think Winthrop wants something of the sort, though he is as stiff as a pine tree, bodily and mentally, and won't own that he wants any thing. He won't want any thing long, that he can get. He is working _confoundedly_ hard. I beg mamma's pardon -- I wouldn't have said that if I had thought of her -- and I would write over my letter now, if I were not short of time, and to tell truth, of paper. This is my last sheet, and a villainous bad one it is; but I can't get any better at the little storekeeper's here, and that at a horridly high price.

"As Governor is writing to you, he will give you all the sense, so it is less matter that there is absolutely nothing in this epistle. Only believe me, my dear father and mother and Winnie and Asahel, ever your most dutiful, grateful, and affectionate son and brother,

"Will. Rufus Landholm.

"My dear mother, the box was most acceptable."

After being once read in private, the letters were given aloud to the children; and then studied over and again by the father and mother to themselves. Winifred was satisfied with the mention of her name; notwithstanding which, she sat with a very wistful face the rest of the afternoon. She was longing for her brother's hand and kiss.

"Have your brothers' letters made you feel sober, Winnie?"

said her mother.

"I want to see him, mamma! --"

"Who?"

"Governor. --"

It was the utmost word Winifred's lips could speak.

"But dear Winnie," said her mother sorrowfully, "it is for their good and their pleasure they are away."

"I know it, mamma, -- I know I am very selfish --"

"I don't think you are," said her mother. "Winnie, remember that they are getting knowledge and fitting themselves to be better and stronger men than they could be if they lived here and learnt nothing."

"Mamma," said Winifred looking up as if defining her position, "I don't think it is right, but I can't always help it."

"We have one friend never far off."

"Oh mamma, I remember that all the while."

"Then can't you look happy?"

"Not always, mamma," said the little girl covering her face quickly. The mother stooped down and put her arms round her.

"You must ask him, and he will teach you to be happy always."

"But I can't, mamma, unless I could be right always," said poor Winifred.

Mrs. Landholm was silent, but kissed her with those soft motherly kisses which had comfort and love in every touch of them. Soon answered, for Winifred lifted up her head and kissed her again.

"How much longer must they be there, mamma?" she asked more cheerfully.

"Two years," Mrs. Landholm answered, with a sigh that belonged to what was not spoken.

"Mamma," said Winifred again presently, trying not to shew from how deep her question came, "aint you afraid Winthrop wants something more to wear?"

And Mrs. Landholm did not shew how deep the question went, but she said lightly,

"We'll see about it. We'll get papa to write and make him tell us what he wants."

"Maybe he won't tell," said Winifred thoughtfully. "I wish I could write."

"Then why don't you set to and learn? Nothing would please Governor so much."

"Would it!" said Winifred with a brightened face.

"Asahel," she said, as Asahel came in a few minutes after, "mamma says Governor would like nothing so well as to have me learn to write."

"I knew that before," said Asahel coolly. "He was talking to me last summer about learning you."

"Was he! Then will you Asahel? Do you know yourself?"

"I know how to begin," said Asahel.

And after that many a sorrowful feeling was wrought into trammels and pothooks.

CHAPTER XIV.

_Bard_. On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach!

_Nym_. Pray thee, corporal, stay; the knocks are too hot; and for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: the humour of it is too hot, that is the very plain-song of it.

KING HENRY V.

"To Mr. Winthrop Landholm, s.h.a.garack College.

"Dec. 10, 1810.

"My dear son,

"We received yours of the third, per Mr. Underhill, which was very gratifying to your mother and myself, as also Will's of the same date. We cannot help wis.h.i.+ng we could hear a little oftener, as these are the first we have had for several weeks.

But we remember your occupations, and I a.s.sure you make due allowances; yet we cannot help thinking a little more time might be given to pa and ma. This is a burdensome world, and every one must bear their own burdens; yet I think it must be conceded it is right for every individual to do what may be in his power towards making the lot of others pleasanter. This I am sure you believe, for you act upon it; and you know that nothing so lightens our load as to know that Will and Governor are doing well. It is a world of uncertainties; and we cannot know this unless you will tell us.

"My dear sons, I do not mean to chide you, and I have said more on this subject than I had any intention to do. But it is very natural, when a subject lies so near the heart, that I should exceed the allotted bounds.

"Winthrop, your mother is afraid, from something in Will's letter, that you are in want of an overcoat. Tell us if you are, and we will do our best to endeavour to supply the deficiency. I thought you had one; but I suppose it must be pretty old by this time. My dear son, we have all one interest; if you want anything, let us know, and if it _can_ be had you know enough of us to know you shall not want it. We have not much to spare certainly, but necessaries we will try to procure; and so long as we need not groan about the present it is not my way to grumble about the future. We shall get along, somehow, I trust.