he class of "good, well-behaved
children," so-called, because in "society" they will sit for hours in
the same spot, ask no questions, never want anything, and so forth, and
then in due course, develop into wooden blockheads. With Euchar the
case was different. If when, in his capacity of a "good, well-behaved"
boy he chanced to be sitting with bent head and downcast eyes, some one
spoke to him, he would start in alarm, stammer, and falter in his
speech, often even shed tears, and seem to have been awakened from a
deep dream. When alone, he appeared to be a totally different being. If
watched without his being aware of it, he would be talking loudly and
eagerly, as if with several people about him, and he would "act" whole
stories--which he had heard or read--as if they were dramas, so that
tables, cupboards, chairs, whatever happened to be in the room with
him, had to represent towns, forests, villages, and dramatis personae.
But when he had an opportunity of being alone in the open air, a
special ecstasy seemed to inspire him. Then he would jump, dance, and
shout through the woods, putting his arms about the trees, throwing
himself down into the grass--and so forth. In any sort of game played
by boys of his own standing, he was most unwilling to take part, and
was consequently looked upon as being "funky," and a creature who had
no "pluck," for he would never take his share in anything where there
was any chance of risk--such as a big jump, or a difficult piece of
climbing. But here, also, it was curious that, when at the end nobody
had had the pluck to do the thing, Euchar would wait till they were all
gone, and then, when he was by himself, would do with the utmost ease,
what they had all only _wanted_ to do. For instance, if the idea was to
get up a high, slender tree, and nobody had managed to do it, as soon
as all their backs were turned, and Euchar was alone, he would be at
the top of it in a few seconds. Seeming outwardly to be cold and
apathetic, he really threw himself into everything with all his soul,
and a persevering steadfastness such as only belongs to strong
characters. And when--as was often the case--that which he felt keenly
came to the surface, it did so with such irresistible force, that
everyone who had any knowledge of such matters was amazed at the depth
of feeling which lay hidden in the boy's nature. Many schoolmasters,
and tutors, who had to do with him, could make neither head nor tail of
hi