Litchfield enquirer., 1877-07-05

had always taken an interest in the lad, first for his fathers sake, and then for his own, offered him place in his stables, and promised him schooling in his leisure hours, for the first year or so; but though his mother fretted and scold- ed, and even went-t the length of crying, Philip made up his mind. and keptat8gsiA. ''I'm not fit for a groom, Sir James" he said 1.-The only horses have turn for are cart-horses. I'm going on the farm, Sir, and I'm going to make it pay" a F
 ''But it pays now," said Sir James, 'your mother has made good thing out of 1t for years. -
 ''But it shall pay better. Sir James" the boy answered, ''because shall learn the work, and we'll do without bailifff"'
 "Well, have your own waY," said the Squire, seeing how the boys mind was set upon his scheme-'sonly the !earning's hard work for boy like you, for you might do better, Philip" the old man went on, kindly.
 50, rom watching the ploaghs at work from comfortable stile between the two fields. Philip was promoted to guiding the strong teams over the soft brown ground, and to sowing the seeds Tn spring time, and harvesting in the autumn; and if his mother sighed sometimes over her vanish ed dreams of greatness, still she was thankful too, when she looked at the bon ny face on the other side of the table, and at the hands that had always some work to keep them employed.
 "He might have done anything, Sir James, she said to the Squire fretfully once, when they were having talk over the boys future-''he's so sharp and L. ,.1>k1 | .I,I l., where, if he'd only taken to books; and though I'll not deny but what he's good lad, still he has no book-learning, Sir James,"
 ."Never mind, Mrs. Leigh," Sir James answered. "he'n do you credit yet, no | doubt. hear down in the village that he carpenters and carves wood of an eve- ming"
 ''And that he does, Sir James," said Dame Leigh, brightening;;" but, when all s said and done; it's work that any carpen- ter could do." ....
 "Not quite," said Sir James. lifting up the chair with the carved rockers to ex- anime it more closely; there's fine work here, and we'll done
 "He's always after queer, out-of the way things" said his mother, half proud ly. "He fixed me up spinning-wheel the other day, out of his odds and ends not to use so much, for I've no call to use such queer things, but for model. he said; and it's a clever thing, Sir James, I take it..
 "A very clever thing" Sir James ans- wered, moving over to look at the curious | complication of wheels and ropes and treadles that stood by the window, made, as Mrs. Leigh had said, out of the merest odds and ends. "Why, my boy has been taking lessons in carving and carpentering for these last five years, and he does not come any where near thls yet. Take heart, Mrs. Leigh, it's such great com fort when boy has turn for work of any kind !"
 ''Its better than nothing, no douht, D said Mrs. Leigh, grudgingly. Good day, Sir, James, and thank you." And then, her heart misgiving her that she had been wronging her boy, she went to stand and watch for at the door, so that the first thing to welcome him home might be the sight of his mothers gentle face in | the doorway. t 'f Every thing that Philip Leigh touched, the neighbors used to say. turned to gold. The farm fourished, and they added to it field by field. until it was one of the larg- est in Eversham village. There was money to lay by. too, against rainy day, and money to add to the. cottage every comfort and luxury for which they could find room or need. Mrs. Leigh grew stout and comfortable, and lost, in a great measure, the worried look that had deep ened on her face while she was still young; and as for Philip himself. be worked steadily on at the farm, until the months into on6 hn nioh%oar, Then the bailiff was dismissed, and he took the management himself.
 "And no one more fit, I'm sure, Mrs. Leigh," the bailiff said, the day he gave over the farm into Philips keeping. s'He knows h1s work now as thoroughly as can teach it; he's gone through every stage of it, you see, from the ploughing. as one may say, up to the harvesting, and if he settles down, he'll do we'll"
 So Philip ''settled down." and took the reins of government into his own capable hands, and was acknowledged as master by the men with whom he had worked side by side; and in the evening his moth- CT would come and sit with him in the workshop while he planned and designed and carved; and Eleanor Gray, the village school-mistress, held the candle, when he wanted higher light thrown on the more intricate parts.
 "Think you, Nell, " he would say, when she laid the candle down again, 'I don't know what mother and shall do without you" for Eleanor, being stranger i'll the village, lodged with Mrs. Leigh, and was 8 companion to her after school hours were over.
 So year by year passed quietly away, and Mrs. Leigh began to look middle aged, and Philip still took pride and de: light in the farm-still worked night after night at his models, and Eleanor Gray still held the candle at the difficult parts; and at last, when Philip was five-and- twenty, and no change seemed ever likely to come to their unevenful lives, change came "
 It was one evening in the spring-an evening that Eleanor always remembers with dull, aching pain-that Philip came Tn from the fields earlier than usual, and sat down beside his mother with his arm about her neck
 'Are things going on we'll, Philip? ?" she asked.
 s'Very well;" he answered, little ner- vously; ''in fact, mother, so we'll, that I am thinking of leaving the farm iii your charge for while. and going away
 Where to, Philip ?' she asked, in a trembling voice @
 ''To London" he answered.
 But thought you were happy here."
 Philip looked across at the chimney corner, where Eleanor Gray sat knitting with her head bent down. and he saw that the steel needles were flashing with a ner- vous haste in the lamplight.
 ''So am, mother" he answered, '.but my models don't get on. must go to London to see and study little more, and work harder than I do here"
 "And how long will you be gone for?" asked Mrs. Leigh. ssWe shall be so dull without you. r .gs
 "Well, shall come back at Christmas to see you" he answered, evasively; .'I can not tell just yet when my work will be finished. And, Nell," he went on, sud- denly, "I leave you to cheer my mother up."
 "Oh yes," said Eleanor, lifting her eyes with bright smile that shone through crystal tears.