"And, O Morton, I so want you to be all that father was, and something
more. I want you to be educated and refined. That Mr. Glendenning was as
brave as the best of our fishermen, and dared face any storm, but how
kind he was, and gentle! How respectful to poor Zeba, how thoughtful for
his aunt and uncle, and what a gentleman in every way! Morton, I want
_you_ to be a gentleman too."
"He can't, Sara," put in Molly, her eyes big and round, "he's too poor;
a man's got to have at least a hundred dollars to be a gentleman, and
Morton hasn't but three cents."
Sara smiled, and the boy looked slowly from one to the other in a
ruminating way.
"But everybody's twitting me with being a lazy good-for-nothing, Sara,
and I can't stand it! Besides, I told Uncle Jabe I'd go, and now I've
got to."
"You can't; I forbid it!" her eyes flashing. "Go at once and tell him
that it is not to be thought of."
It was an unwise speech, as Sara instantly felt; for Morton, though he
could be coaxed into almost anything, was worse than a mule when driven.
Now the dogged look she was learning to dread settled over his face, and
he squared his shoulders sturdily.
"Well, I guess you'll find I can, Sara Olmstead, and it will take
somebody older and bigger'n you to stop me, too! So 'forbid' till you're
tired, if you like; I've given my word, and I'm going--that's settled!"
The poor girl's heart sank like lead, and she could have bitten her
unruly tongue out for those foolish words.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121