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Updated: August 19, 2024
I hardly think it can be as bad; for many a saint must have had such experiences which really is thinking both right and wrong, and doing right, even if he did think wrong afterward. That first winter, I lived on Captain Sproule's farm, and had my board, washing and mending.
Fogg, Captain Sproule's sister, that winter I worked for her near Herkimer, and a wool cap, trimmed about with a broad band of mink fur, and a long crocheted woolen comforter about my neck, I was as well-dressed a boy for a winter's day as a body need look for.
I had no post-office address, and my mother had depended on Rucker's getting Captain Sproule's address at Syracuse which of course he had never meant to do and had not asked me to inquire at any place for mail. I wrote letters to her at Buffalo as she had asked me to do in her letter, but they were returned unclaimed. It was plain that Rucker meant to give me the slip, and had done so.
"What is the reason, Mogue," he asked, "That you didn't let me know you had brought home the blunderbuss?" "That I may be happy, Mr. John, but it was bekaise you didn't ax me; an' a beautiful new ramrod it has now, at any rate." "Where are you bound for, Mogue?" "Why, up to Harry Sproule's for paper and writin' things for the ladies. Any news in Lisnagola, Mr. John?"
I put my forehead down upon it, and lay there a long time so long that when I roused myself and went down to the canal, I had not sat on my old stump a minute when I saw Captain Sproule's boat approaching from the west. With a heavy heart I stepped aboard, carrying the worn-out shoe and the letter, which I have yet. The boat was the only home left me. It had become my world.
I did stay and helped through the spring's work; but on Captain Sproule's second passing of Mrs. Fogg's farm, I joined him, not as a driver, but as a full hand. I kept thinking all the time of my mother, and felt that if I kept to the canal I surely should find some trace of her.
This was done, and the sound of ascending feet on the stairway reaching Sproule's ears at that moment, he grabbed his book and took himself off, muttering vengeance. "Have you looked?" asked West. "Yes; it's not there. But there are no others missing. Who could have taken it?" "Any one, my boy; Bartlett Cloud, for preference.
The summer went by with no news and no hunchback; and that winter I stayed with an aunt of Captain Sproule's, taking care of her stock. I got five dollars a month, and my keep, but no schooling. She wanted me to stay the summer with her, and offered me what was almost a man's wages; which shows how strong I was getting, and how much of a farmer I was.
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