said Lila anxiously.
"Do not worry little sister. I shall not go and leave you without protection," comforted her brother.
While Austin and his family had been fighting their own battles in life, many stirring events had been going on about them. There had come the call to arms when the whole nation had been stirred from center to circ.u.mference, and after that the sad, heart-rending times when the boys had been called away to the camps and later over the sea to the battle with their common foe. In all this Austin had been interested, but had hardly seemed a part of it, so engrossed had he been with his own perplexities.
But now had come the call which included the boys yet in their teens, and he was now in the draft age. Today had come his summons from the Government to appear and be examined for enlistment in the service.
When Austin appeared before the board they greeted him with smiles. The manly form and apparent health of the young man appealed to them, and his youth naturally proclaimed him a man without family cares.
"It is easy to place such men as you are," said the officer.
"In what cla.s.s do you think I should be placed?" inquired Austin.
"In first cla.s.s, of course. You are in perfect health, and within the age limits, and too young to have a family."
"But what of dependents?"
"Dependents! Have you dependents?" asked the man in some surprize.
"Yes sir. I have a family of four or five entirely dependent upon my labor," answered Austin quietly.
"How is that? You stated your father was living," said the man. Then Austin explained his circ.u.mstances, and how he had been the sole support of the family now for months, and would continue to be so till they were able to care for themselves. The explanations were not at all complimentary to the father, but the facts had to be faced as they were. And later, as the children gave affidavit of their dependence upon him, he was freely excused from military service. Not all the brave soldiers went to the war.
The home that Austin and the children were making for themselves was not in a general way different from others. There were some things of necessity lacking which bless other homes. There was no mother in this home, no one for the children to go to for comfort and counsel such as only a mother can give. Amy and Nell were too young and inexperienced to know how to give either comfort or counsel. Lila and Doyle missed this part of normal child-life very much. The other children could remember their mother; but these two were growing up without knowing a mother"s love and care. And the girls were pa.s.sing through the age when more than ever a girl needs a mother. They were not little paragons of wisdom and understanding, never making mistakes, always doing just what is right.
One of the problems of the family at this time was Harry. He had been separated from the family so long, and in knocking about for himself had built up a philosophy of life all his own. He was not a rebellious nor disobedient boy, but he had learned to make his own counsel and settle his own problems. It was hard for him to be under the strict rules that Austin thought right for his family. He could not feel that he was a perfect fit among the others. He was not a studious boy by nature and, though so young, had been missing most of the school-term for two years. It was bondage to him to sit all day in the schoolroom, and harder yet for him to know that he was dependent upon his brother for his support. Just as Austin had yearned for the feel of money of his own earning, so Harry longed to feel that he was entirely independent.
"Austin, I can not stand it any longer," and the speaker stood before his brother very straight and erect showing off to advantage every inch of his height. Austin was no higher than the boy before him, and they looked levelly into each other"s eyes. "I do not like to go to school, I hate books, and I feel in prison in the schoolroom."
"But, Harry, you need the schooling very much. Think how you have been deprived of the privilege all your life. You are almost grown, and have never had a full term of school in your life."
"I know, Aus, that what you say is all true, and that I need the learning bad enough. But I can not stand it. I feel mean all the time. Here I am as able to work as you are, and yet I am taking life easy while you are bearing the whole burden."
"Do not look at it in that way, Harry. I am sure I do not. It is a pleasure to me to see all of you start off to school. That is the very thing I have been striving for, to give you children a chance to make good in life."
"Where is your chance coming in, I should like to know? You have kept the children most of the time since you were my age. It looks as if I ought to take care of myself and help you some. Why should I have a chance made for me while you make the chance for all the rest?"
"I am not complaining of my lot, Harry. I am only too glad to be able to work, and that I have been favored with that which brings us a good livelihood. I want you to stay in school. It is the thing you ought to do.
There will be plenty of time for you to help after you have a few more years of school."
"Austin, I am going. I have made up my mind and I will not be turned. I shall get a job somewhere and look out for myself, and help you when I can.
Possibly I can find a chance to get a little more schooling now and then, and yet not feel that I am a dead weight on you. My mind is not on school now, and there is no use in my trying to keep at it any longer."
"Well, of course, Harry, if you have made up your mind like that, it is useless for me to say anything. But I am certain you are making a mistake, and you will see it some time. With the education you now have you can do only the hardest and most unpleasant labor. The door of opportunity will be closed to you on every hand, because you have not the knowledge necessary to enter in. I have been endeavoring to help you to prepare yourself."
"I have had as much opportunity for school already as you ever had. I shall be satisfied if I can make the wages you are making when I am as old. Do you not think I can do as well for myself alone, as you have done with so many to look after?"
"You will make good, Harry, I am certain of that. I did not mean to speak as if I had a doubt of you, and I do admire your spirit. But I know from experience that doors of opportunity do close in the face of a boy who is unlearned. I wanted to give you a better chance than I have ever had."
"I do not feel I have a right to take it. As soon as I can I shall help you care for the girls and Doyle. I say it is a shame the way things have gone.
I am not mad at you that I am leaving, and I am not dissatisfied with what you have done for me. It is too easy a way for a fellow who can care for himself. So I will get out and find work as soon as I can."
Austin went on to his work with a heavy heart. Would it be so with all the children? Amy had treated the opportunity he had given her for school so lightly, and had chosen rather the frivolous pleasures of youth to a few years of application. Soon she would awaken to her mistake, but it would be after her chance was gone. Now Harry was flinging over his opportunity just as recklessly, though from a much better motive. But his good motive would not put knowledge into his head. That would come only by application to his books. Already Nell began to speak of the time when she could be spared to go out to earn money of her own. Oh, that he could make enough to keep them all satisfied! He did not stop to reason that the same love of independent earning had moved him in his earlier teens.
Harry found work with a farmer not many miles in the country, so that many of their Sundays were made pleasant by his company. And Nell rejoiced more than once in new clothes that his savings made possible for her. "I am proud of Harry," was the mental comment of Austin as he watched the steady progress of the boy.
Austin heard all sorts of laughing, and sarcastic, tearful, and mischievous remarks about something or other out in the living-room. His rest was disturbed, and he went out to see what was the matter.
"Here is some news for you, Austin. Guess what it is."
"Can"t guess. You will have to tell."
"You have a new mother."
"A what?"
"A new mother. Here is a letter from Papa telling us about it."
The expression on Austin"s face would be hard to describe, while his sisters were laughing at him. But what else could he expect? His father had been homeless for a long time.
"I should like to see her. I have always wanted a mother. I should like to live with them," announced Doyle, to the astonishment of the whole family.
"Are you not happy here, Doyle? Is this not a good home for you?" asked Austin, who felt hurt at what the child had said.
"Oh, this is all right. But I want a father and a mother," said Doyle.
There is a longing in the heart of a child for the love and protection of parents that no amount of sacrifice and devotion on the part of another can fill. Doyle could not remember his mother, and had little close a.s.sociation with his father. He loved Austin, but he could not get away from his longing for his parents.
Austin"s brow clouded as he heard Doyle"s wish, and saw the expression on the boy"s face. It did not seem fair after the sacrifice he had made all these years, the way he had given his youth for them, that the boy should care more for his father and this unknown mother than he did for his home and the one who had made it possible.
Lila saw the look of pain on her brother"s face and, slipping her hand into his, whispered, "I would never leave you, Austin. You are more to me than any one else. I wouldn"t have any home but this."
Tears came to his eyes as he turned and gave the child a caress. He had not realized how his heart did yearn for such words.
CHAPTER 26
UNCLE PHILIP"S CHILDREN
A hasty step outside and a quick rap at the door brought Nell face to face with a messenger boy. He held a telegram in his hand, and asked, "Is Austin Hill here?"
"Yes. Austin," she called, for he was in the house. In a moment he was beside her and had taken the message from the hand of the boy and was reading it. After a hasty perusal he looked anxiously at Nell and said, "It is from Uncle Philip Hill. Aunt Minnie died this morning. There is no return message," he said turning to the boy and paying him his fee.
"Oh, Austin! Aunt Minnie dead! It can not be. Think of all those little children. What will Uncle Philip do?" and Nell"s face showed the sorrow and concern she felt.
"It is certainly a shock. I did not know that she was ill. I do not know, Nell, what he will do. He is such a helpless man, and has depended on Aunt Minnie as Papa did on our mother. Poor Aunt! She has carried her burden as long as she could, and had to lay it down before her task was done. The poor little children have lost their best friend." Austin"s face was grave and sad, for his heart was touched in sympathy with the bereaved little ones.
"Six of them. Think of it, Austin! And Helen is not more than thirteen. She is only a few months older than Lila. Little John can not be two yet, and all of them without a mother!" Tears were bathing Nell"s face as she spoke.