Faithful Unto Death

The Hired Boy

Sunday-School Teacher benzonia, 1865 anna, fifteen and mature-looking in her long navy blue poplin suit, burst through the door. Her cheeks were ›ushed a lively pink, and her dark eyes shone. “Elvira! Can you guess!” “Anna! You nearly scared the life out of me! Now sit down here and catch your breath. What in the world is it?” “You’re looking at the new teacher of the Wednesday-morning Little Friends Bible class!” “Oh, Anna, how wonderful! You’ve studied so hard; nobody deserves the position more than you do. Your father will be especially proud.” “Charlotte! You’ll be the second person to know, after Elvira. I got the position!” “The Bible class? Truly? Oh, I am so pleased for you!” Charlotte threw her arms around her sister and gave her an extravagant hug.“This just makes me determined to study harder than ever, so I can follow in my big sister’s footsteps.” “Oh, you have no need to follow in my footsteps. You’ll do great things in your own way, I’m sure.” “Perhaps I shall. But this is your triumph. We must have a special reading tonight, to celebrate. I’ll go right now and pick out the verses for it, shall I?” “Suppose you let your father decide on the readings, Charlotte?” Charlotte stopped, her hand on the knob, her face wooden. Elvira could have bitten her tongue once the words were out. Charlotte clearly meant well by her sister; she always did. Why did that always result in the attentions being trained on Charlotte instead? “Of course I will, Elvira, if you think that’s best,” said Charlotte. The Hired Boy benzonia, 1870 “mr. spencer, this is John Thacker, the fellow I spoke of the other day. His boy William thinks he’d like to partake of higher education, and 18 needs a place to board. John, I’d like to introduce you to David Spencer. He and his good wife Elvira have kindly offered to open their home to a young man of good character.” “That’s good of you, Mr. Spencer. My boy, Henry we call him, is a real ‹ne young man, hard worker, and I think you’ll like him.” David smiled. “I’m sure we shall manage with the young man, ah, Henry or William, did you say? No matter, we shall make him welcome. I have a son who is just beginning at the college this year as well. Brainard is studying for the ministry. Henry shall room with our Brainard. Bring him along any time in the last week of August, and we’ll see that he gets settled in.” “We’ll still be haying that week,” mused John, “but I expect we can spare him that Saturday.” “Your Henry will be in good hands at the Spencers’,” con‹ded Horace Burr after David had taken his leave. “Come of missionary stock. The older Mr. Spencer was a Harvard man, and David Spencer ministered to the Indians in Minnesota for a time before they moved here. He has two daughters who teach at the Sunday school, nice young ladies. Anna’s very popular with the older ladies, always willing to lend a helping hand. Charlotte’s the younger of the two.” He looked as though he’d begun to say more, John noted, but then didn’t. “I’m not sure if young Brainard’s as likely to follow in the Spencer ministerial footsteps as his father assumes, but he’s well liked among the younger fellows. Elvira Spencer sets a very good table, I’ve found.” william henry stood on the doorstep of the Spencer house, uncomfortably aware of the rivulets of sweat running down his sides, soaking his best shirt under the arms. His feet were encased in his good boots, worn but newly polished, heavy and hot for an August afternoon. His Sunday straw hat had a new band to it, his trousers were neatly pressed, but Henry felt in his heart that he looked like a bumpkin as he stood in his heavy boots, the worn carpetbag’s handle sticky in his grasp. Several hours ago, with what imaginings had he packed this bag: He was the scion of landed gentry, packing silk shirts and ties into a slim leather valise, preparing to depart for University on the afternoon train. He sat at the head of the Spencer table toying with a glass of something sinful and red, mesmerizing the...