The Running Away of Chester

"The Running Away of Chester" is a charming short story by Lucy Maud Montgomery that follows the adventures of a young boy named Chester who feels misunderstood and trapped in his mundane life. In his quest for freedom and excitement, Chester decides to run away, leading to a series of encounters that help him gain a deeper understanding of himself and the importance of love and belonging. Montgomery's signature lyrical prose and rich character development evoke a sense of nostalgia and highlight the struggles of childhood, making the story resonate with readers of all ages.

• Short story

								
Chester did the chores with unusual vim that night. His lips were set
and there was an air of resolution as plainly visible on his small,
freckled face as if it had been stamped there. Mrs. Elwell saw him
flying around, and her grim features took on a still grimmer
expression.

"Ches is mighty lively tonight," she muttered. "I s'pose he's in a gog
to be off on some foolishness with Henry Wilson. Well, he won't, and
he needn't think it."

Lige Barton, the hired man, also thought this was Chester's purpose,
but he took a more lenient view of it than did Mrs. Elwell.

"The little chap is going through things with a rush this evening," he
reflected. "Guess he's laying out for a bit of fun with the Wilson
boy."

But Chester was not planning anything connected with Henry Wilson, who
lived on the other side of the pond and was the only chum he
possessed. After the chores were done, he lingered a little while
around the barns, getting his courage keyed up to the necessary pitch.

Chester Stephens was an orphan without kith or kin in the world,
unless his father's stepsister, Mrs. Harriet Elwell, could be called
so. His parents had died in his babyhood, and Mrs. Elwell had taken
him to bring up. She was a harsh woman, with a violent temper, and she
had scolded and worried the boy all his short life. Upton people said
it was a shame, but nobody felt called upon to interfere. Mrs. Elwell
was not a person one would care to make an enemy of.

She eyed Chester sourly when he went in, expecting some request to be
allowed to go with Henry, and prepared to refuse it sharply.

"Aunt Harriet," said Chester suddenly, "can I go to school this year?
It begins tomorrow."

"No," said Mrs. Elwell, when she had recovered from her surprise at
this unexpected question. "You've had schoolin' in plenty--more'n I
ever had, and all you're goin' to get!"

"But, Aunt Harriet," persisted Chester, his face flushed with
earnestness, "I'm nearly thirteen, and I can barely read and write a
little. The other boys are ever so far ahead of me. I don't know
anything."

"You know enough to be disrespectful!" exclaimed Mrs. Elwell. "I
suppose you want to go to school to idle away your time, as you do at
home--lazy good-for-nothing that you are!" Chester thought of the
drudgery that had been his portion all his life. He resented being
called lazy when he was willing enough to work, but he made one more
appeal.

"If you'll let me go to school this year, I'll work twice as hard out
of school to make up for it--indeed, I will. Do let me go, Aunt
Harriet. I haven't been to school a day for over a year."

"Let's hear no more of this nonsense," said Mrs. Elwell, taking a
bottle from the shelf above her with the air of one who closes a
discussion. "Here, run down to the Bridge and get me this bottle full
of vinegar at Jacob's store. Be smart, too, d'ye hear! I ain't going
to have you idling around the Bridge neither. If you ain't back in
twenty minutes, it won't be well for you."

Chester did his errand at the Bridge with a heart full of bitter
disappointment and anger.

"I won't stand it any longer!" he muttered. "I'll run away--I don't
care where, so long as it's away from her. I wish I could get out West
on the harvest excursions."

On his return home, as he crossed the yard in the dusk, he stumbled
over a stick of wood and fell. The bottle of vinegar slipped from his
hand and was broken on the doorstep. Mrs. Elwell saw the accident from
the window. She rushed out and jerked the unlucky lad to his feet.

"Take that, you sulky little cub!" she exclaimed, cuffing his ears
soundly. "I'll teach you to break and spill things you're sent for!
You did it on purpose. Get off to bed with you this instant."

Chester crept off to his garret chamber with a very sullen face. He
was too used to being sent to bed without any supper to care much for
that, although he was hungry. But his whole being was in a tumult of
rebellion over the injustice that was meted out to him.

"I won't stand it!" he muttered over and over again. "I'll run away. I
won't stay here."

To talk of running away was one thing. To do it without a cent in your
pocket or a place to run to was another. But Chester had a great deal
of determination in his make-up when it was fairly roused, and his
hard upbringing had made him older and shrewder than his years. He lay
awake late that night, thinking out ways and means, but could arrive
at no satisfactory conclusion.

The next day Mrs. Elwell said, "Ches, Abner Stearns wants you to go up
there for a fortnight while Tom Bixby is away, and drive the milk
wagon of mornings and do the chores for Mrs. Stearns. You might as
well put in the time 'fore harvest that way as any other. So hustle
off--and mind you behave yourself."

Chester heard the news gladly. He had not yet devised any feasible
plan for running away, and he always liked to work at the Stearns'
place. To be sure, Mrs. Elwell received all the money he earned, but
Mrs. Stearns was kind to him, and though he had to work hard and
constantly, he was well fed and well treated by all.

The following fortnight was a comparatively happy one for the lad.
But he did not forget his purpose of shaking the dust of Upton from
his feet as soon as possible, and he cudgelled his brains trying to
find a way.

On the evening when he left the Stearns' homestead, Mr. Stearns paid
him for his fortnight's work, much to the boy's surprise, for Mrs.
Elwell had always insisted that all such money should be paid directly
to her. Chester found himself the possessor of four dollars--an amount
of riches that almost took away his breath. He had never in his whole
life owned more than ten cents at a time. As he tramped along the road
home, he kept his hand in his pocket, holding fast to the money, as if
he feared it would otherwise dissolve into thin air.

His mind was firmly made up. He would run away once and for all. This
money was rightly his; he had earned every cent of it. It would surely
last him until he found employment elsewhere. At any rate, he would
go; and even if he starved, he would never come back to Aunt
Harriet's!

When he reached home, he found Mrs. Elwell in an unusual state of
worry. Lige had given warning--and this on the verge of harvest!

"Did Stearns say anything about coming down tomorrow to pay me for
your work?" she asked.

"No, ma'am. He didn't say a word about it," said Chester boldly.

"Well, I hope he will. Take yourself off to bed, Ches. I'm sick of
seeing you standing there, on one foot or t'other, like a gander."

Chester had been shifting about uneasily. He realized that, if his
project did not miscarry, he would not see his aunt again, and his
heart softened to her. Harsh as she was, she was the only protector he

								Rate this book:0.0 / 0 votes