d Elizabeth, putting down her book and looking at her
father, -- "he wants to make himself something more than a
farmer."

"Why should he want to make himself anything more than a
farmer?" said Mr. Haye without looking off _his_ book.

"Why would you, sir?"

"I would just as lief be a farmer as anything else," said Mr.
Haye, "if I had happened to be born in that line. It's as good
a way of life as any other."

"Why, father! -- You would rather be what you are now?"

"Well -- I wasn't born a farmer," said Mr. Haye conclusively.

"Then you would have everybody stay where he happens to be!"

"I wouldn't have anything about it," said Mr. Haye. "That's
what I want for myself --let other people do what they will."

"But some people can't do what they will."

"Well --Be thankful you're not one of 'em."

"Father, if I can have what I will, I would have you help this
young man."

"I don't know how to help him, child; -- he's not in my way. If
he wanted to go into business, there would be something in it,
but I have nothing to do with schools and Colleges."

Elizabeth's cheek lit up with one of the prettiest colours a
woman's cheek ever wears, -- the light of generous indignation.

"I wish _I_ had the means!" she said.

"What would you do with it?"

"I would help him, somehow."

"My dear, you could not do it; they would not let you; their
pride would stand in the way of everything of the kind."

"I don't believe it," said Elizabeth, the fire of her eye
shining now through drops that made it brighter; -- "I am sure
something could be done."

"It's just as well undone," said Mr. Haye calmly.

"Why, sir?" -- his daughter asked almost fiercely.

"What put this young fellow's head upon Colleges, and all
that?"

"I don't know, sir! -- how should I?"

"It won't last -- it's just a freak to be a great man and get
out of hob-nailed shoes -- he'll get over it; and much better
he should. It's much better he should stay here and help his
father, and that's what he's made for. He'll never be anything
else."

Mr. Haye threw down his book and left the room; and his
daughter stood at the window with her heart swelling.

"He _will_ be something else, and he'll _not_ get over it," she
said to herself, while her eyes were too full to let her see a
single thing outside the window. "He is fit for something
else, and he will have it, hard or easy, short or long; and I
hope he will! -- and oh, I wish father had done wh