Part 12 (1/2)

”You are to be my little sweetheart now, and I am to be in your thoughts hereafter when you sing; only we don't want any more such songs as this one. I don't want to 'remember still and weep for you,' I want to have you always by me and work for you. Won't you let me?”

Elizabeth found her tongue for a moment only, but that was enough for her lover. A happy light gleamed in his eyes: his face glowed. He was transfigured. Love does so much for a man.

From that time forward, when he was hara.s.sed by cares and trouble, he sought out Elizabeth, and, even though he could seldom tell her all that was in his heart, he found relief in her presence. He did not often speak of his trials to her, for, in spite of his love for her, he felt that she could not understand; but the pleasure he found in her company put sweetness into his life and made his burdens easier to bear.

Only once had a little shadow come between them, and the fact that so little a thing could have made a shadow shows in what a narrow, constrained atmosphere the two young people lived. Young Brent still had his half-day position in the store, and when the employees of a rival establishment challenged Daniels's clerks to a game of baseball, he was duly chosen as one of the men to uphold the honour of their house upon the diamond.

The young man was not fossilised. He had strength and the capacity for enjoyment, so he accepted without a thought of wrong. The Sat.u.r.day came, the game was played. Fred Brent took part, and thereby brought a hornets' nest about his ears. It would scarcely have been so bad, but the young man entered the game with all the zest and earnestness of his intense nature, and several times by brilliant playing saved his side from defeat. In consequence, his name was in the mouth of every one who had seen or heard of the contest. He was going home that evening, feeling pleased and satisfied with himself, when he thought he would drop in a moment on the way and see Elizabeth. He had hardly got into the house before he saw from her manner that something was wrong, and he wondered what it could be. He soon learned. It is only praise that is slow.

”Oh, Fred,” said the girl, reproachfully, ”is it true that you have been playing baseball?”

”Baseball, yes; what of it? What are you looking so horrified about?”

”Did you think it was right for you, in your position, to play?”

”If I had thought it was wrong I a.s.suredly should not have played,” the young man returned.

”Everybody is talking about it, and father says he thinks you have disgraced your calling.”

”Disgraced my calling by playing an innocent game?”

”But father thinks it is a shame for a man who is preparing to do such work as yours to have people talking about him as a mere ball-player.”

The blood mounted in hot surges to the young man's face. He felt like saying, ”Your father be hanged,” but he controlled his anger, and said, quietly, ”Elizabeth, don't you ever think for yourself?”

”I suppose I do, Fred, but I have been brought up to respect what my elders think and say.”

”Don't you think that they, as well as we, can be narrow and mistaken?”

”It is not for me to judge them. My part is to obey.”

”You have learned an excellent lesson,” he returned, bitterly. ”That is just the thing: 'obey, obey.' Well, I will. I will be a stick, a dolt. I will be as unlike what G.o.d intended me to be as possible. I will be just what your father and Aunt Hester and you want me to be. I will let them think for me and save my soul. I am too much an imbecile to attempt to work out my own salvation. No, Elizabeth, I will not play ball any more.

I can imagine the horrified commotion it caused among the angels when they looked down and saw me pitching. When I get back to school I shall look up the four Gospels' views on ball-playing.”

”Fred, I don't like you when you talk that way.”

”I won't do that any more, either.” He rose abruptly. ”Good-bye, Elizabeth. I am off.” He was afraid to stay, lest more bitter words should come to his lips.

”Good-bye, Fred,” she said. ”I hope you understand.”

The young man wondered as he walked homeward if the girl he had chosen was not a little bit prim. Then he thought of her father, and said to himself, even as people would have said of himself, ”How can she help it, with such a father?”

All his brightness had been dashed. He was irritated because the thing was so small, so utterly absurd. It was like the sting of a miserable little insect,--just enough to smart, and not enough to need a strong remedy. The news of the game had also preceded him home, and his guardian's opinion of the propriety of his action did not tend to soothe his mind. Mrs. Hodges forcibly expressed herself as follows: ”I put baseball-playin' right down with dancin' and sich like. It ain't no fittin' occupation for any one that 's a-goin' into the ministry. It 's idleness, to begin with; it 's a-wastin' the precious time that 's been given us for a better use. A young man that 's goin' to minister to people's souls ought to be consecrated to the work before he begins it.

Who ever heerd tell of Jesus playin' baseball?”

Among a certain cla.s.s of debaters such an argument is always supposed to be clinching, unanswerable, final. But Mr. Hodges raised his voice in protest. ”I ain't a-goin' to keep still no longer. I don't believe the boy 's done a bit o' harm. There 's lots of things the Lord did n't do that He did n't forbid human bein's to do. We ain't none of us divine, but you mark my words, Freddie, an' I say it right here so 's yore aunt Hester can hear me too, you mark my words: ef you never do nothin' worse than what you 've been a-doin' to-day, it 'll be mighty easy for you to read yore t.i.tle clear to mansions in the skies.”

”Omph huh, 'Liphalet, there ain't nothin' so easy as talkin' when Satin 's a-promptin' you.”