The Fraser Scholarship Page #2

"The Fraser Scholarship" is a short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery that explores the themes of ambition, sacrifice, and the complexities of human relationships. The narrative centers around a young woman who is determined to win a prestigious scholarship that would allow her to fulfill her dreams of education and independence. Through her journey, the story highlights the challenges she faces, including societal expectations and personal dilemmas. Montgomery weaves a poignant tale that captures the struggles and triumphs of pursuing one's aspirations while navigating the intricate dynamics of love and friendship.

• Short story

								

cent in his examination."

Elliott flung himself into a chair by his table and bowed his head on
his hands. He had no right to the Fraser Scholarship. His name was
not Campbell, although perhaps nobody in the world knew it save
himself, and he remembered it only by an effort of memory.

He had been born in a rough mining camp in British Columbia, and when
he was a month old his father, John Hanselpakker, had been killed in a
mine explosion, leaving his wife and child quite penniless and almost
friendless. One of the miners, an honest, kindly Scotchman named
Alexander Campbell, had befriended Mrs. Hanselpakker and her little
son in many ways, and two years later she had married him. They
returned to their native province of Nova Scotia and settled in a
small country village. Here Elliott had grown up, bearing the name of
the man who was a kind and loving father to him, and whom he loved as
a father. His mother had died when he was ten years old and his
stepfather when he was fifteen. On his deathbed he asked Elliott to
retain his name.

"I've cared for you and loved you since the time you were born, lad,"
he said. "You seem like my own son, and I've a fancy to leave you my
name. It's all I can leave you, for I'm a poor man, but it's an honest
name, lad, and I've kept it free from stain. See that you do likewise,
and you'll have your mother's blessing and mine."

Elliott fought a hard battle that spring evening.

"Hold your tongue and keep the Fraser," whispered the tempter.
"Campbell is your name. You've borne it all your life. And the
condition itself is a ridiculous one--no fairness about it. You made
the highest marks and you ought to be the winner. It isn't as if you
were wronging Stone or any of the others who worked hard and made good
marks. If you throw away what you've won by your own hard labour, the
Fraser goes to McLean, who made only seventy. Besides, you need the
money and he doesn't. His father is a rich man."

"But I'll be a cheat and a cad if I keep it," Elliott muttered
miserably. "Campbell isn't my legal name, and I'd never again feel as
if I had even the right of love to it if I stained it by a dishonest
act. For it would be stained, even though nobody but myself knew it.
Father said it was a clean name when he left it, and I cannot soil
it."

The tempter was not silenced so easily as that. Elliott passed a
sleepless night of indecision. But next day he went to Marwood and
asked for a private interview with the president. As a result, an
official announcement was posted that afternoon on the bulletin board
to the effect that, owing to a misunderstanding, the Fraser
Scholarship had been wrongly awarded. Carl McLean was posted as
winner.

The story soon got around the campus, and Elliott found himself rather
overwhelmed with sympathy, but he did not feel as if he were very much
in need of it after all. It was good to have done the right thing and
be able to look your conscience in the face. He was young and strong
and could work his own way through Marwood in time.

"No condolences, please," he said to Roger Brooks with a smile. "I'm
sorry I lost the Fraser, of course, but I've my hands and brains left.
I'm going straight to my boarding-house to dig with double vim, for
I've got to take an examination next week for a provincial school
certificate. Next winter I'll be a flourishing pedagogue in some
up-country district."

He was not, however. The next afternoon he received a summons to the
president's office. The president was there, and with him was a plump,
motherly-looking woman of about sixty.

"Mrs. Fraser, this is Elliott Hanselpakker, or Campbell, as I
understand he prefers to be called. Elliott, I told your story to Mrs.
Fraser last evening, and she was greatly interested when she heard
your rather peculiar name. She will tell you why herself."

"I had a young half-sister once," said Mrs. Fraser eagerly. "She
married a man named John Hanselpakker and went West, and somehow I
lost all trace of her. There was, I regret to say, a coolness between
us over her marriage. I disapproved of it because she married a very
poor man. When I heard your name, it struck me that you might be her
son, or at least know something about her. Her name was Mary Helen
Rodney, and I loved her very dearly in spite of our foolish quarrel."

There was a tremour in Mrs. Fraser's voice and an answering one in
Elliott's as he replied: "Mary Helen Rodney was my dear mother's name,
and my father was John Hanselpakker."

"Then you are my nephew," exclaimed Mrs. Fraser. "I am your Aunt
Alice. My boy, you don't know how much it means to a lonely old woman
to have found you. I'm the happiest person in the world!"

She slipped her arm through Elliott's and turned to the sympathetic
president with shining eyes.

"He is my boy forever, if he will be. Blessings on the Fraser
Scholarship!"

"Blessings rather on the manly boy who wouldn't keep it under false
colours," said the president with a smile. "I think you are fortunate
in your nephew, Mrs. Fraser."

So Elliott Hanselpakker Campbell came back to Marwood the next year
after all.
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