o rich a gift,
to know the joy of such generosity, nobody had a right to protest. Yet
nobody knew how much the poor wakeful soul would miss the only one of
her meagre possessions that seemed alive and companionable in lonely
hours. Somebody had said once that there were chairs that went about
on wheels, made on purpose for crippled persons like Ma'am Stover; and
Elisha's heart was instantly filled with delight at the remembrance.
Perhaps before long, if he could save some money and get ahead, he
would buy one of those chairs and send it down from Boston; and a new
sense of power filled his honest heart. He had dreamed a great many
dreams already of what he meant to do with all his money, when he came
home rich and a person of consequence, in summer vacations.

The large leather valise was soon packed, and its owner carried it out
to the roadside, and put his last winter's overcoat and a great new
umbrella beside it, so as to be ready when John Sykes came with the
wagon. He was more and more anxious to be gone, and felt no sense of
his old identification with the home interests. His mother said sadly
that he would be gone full soon enough, when he joined his grandfather
in accusing Mr. Sykes of keeping them waiting forever and making him
miss the boat. There were three rough roundabout miles to be traveled
to the steamer landing, and the Sykes horses were known to be slow.
But at last the team came nodding in sight over a steep hill in the
road.

Then the moment of parting had come, the moment toward which all the
long late winter and early summer had looked. The boy was leaving his
plain little home for the great adventure of his life's fortunes.
Until then he had been the charge and anxiety of his elders, and under
their rule and advice. Now he was free to choose; his was the power of
direction, his the responsibility; for in the world one must be ranked
by his own character and ability, and doomed by his own failures. The
boy lifted his burden lightly, and turned with an eager smile to say
farewell. But the old people and little Lydia were speechless with
grief; they could not bear to part with the pride and hope and boyish
strength, that were all their slender joy. The worn-out old man, the
anxious woman who had been beaten and buffeted by the waves of poverty
and sorrow, the little sister with her dreaming heart, stood at the
bars and hungrily watched him go away. They feared success for him
almost as much as fail