With a heart swelling with
rage and vexation, James went to his room--but not to bed. The purpose
so long cherished in his mind, of leaving parental rule and restraint,
was at its height. He opened his closet and bureau, and deliberately
selected changes of clothing which would be most useful to him, took the
few dollars he had carefully gathered for some time past for this
purpose, and made all the preparation he could for a long absence from
the home, parents, and friends, where, but for ungoverned tempers and
tongues, he might have been so useful, respected and happy. When he
could think of no more to be done, he looked about him. How many proofs
of his mother's careful attention to his wishes and his comfort, did his
chamber afford! And his little brother, five years younger, so quietly
sleeping in his comfortable bed! Dearly he loved that brother, and yet
hardly a day passed, in which they did not vex, and irritate, and abuse
each other. He was half tempted to lie down by his side, and give up all
thoughts of leaving home. But no. How severe his father would look at
breakfast, and his mother would say something harsh. "No. I'll quit, I
declare I will--and then if their hearts ache, I shall be glad of it.
Mine has ached, till it's as hard as a stone. No, I've often tried, and
now I'll go. I won't be called to account, and scolded for staying out
of the house, when there is no comfort to be found in it.
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