The Running Away of Chester Page #7

"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

								

them. Even Clemantiny relented somewhat. To be sure, she continued
very grim, and still threw her words at him as if they were so many
missiles warranted to strike home. But Chester soon learned that
Clemantiny's bark was worse than her bite. She was really very good to
him and fed him lavishly. But she declared that this was only to put
some flesh on him.

"It offends me to see bones sticking through anybody's skin like that.
We aren't used to such objects at Mount Hope Farm, thank goodness.
Yes, you may smile, Salome. I like him well enough, and I'll admit
that he knows how to make himself useful, but I don't trust him any
more than ever I did. He's mighty close about his past life. You can't
get any more out of him than juice out of a post. I've tried, and I
know."

But it was Miss Salome who had won Chester's whole heart. He had never
loved anybody in his hard little life before. He loved her with an
almost dog-like devotion. He forgot that he was working to earn
money--and make his fortune. He worked to please Miss Salome. She was
good and kind and gentle to him, and his starved heart thawed and
expanded in the sunshine of her atmosphere. She went to the little
porch room every night to kiss him good night. Chester would have been
bitterly disappointed if she had failed to go.

She was greatly shocked to find out that he had never said his prayers
before going to bed. She insisted on teaching him the simple little
one she had used herself when a child. When Chester found that it
would please her, he said it every night. There was nothing he would
not have done for Miss Salome.

She talked a good deal to him about Johnny and she gave him the
jack-knife that Johnny had owned.

"It belonged to a good, manly little boy once," she said, "and now I
hope it belongs to another such."

"I ain't very good," said Chester repentantly, "but I'll try to be,
Miss Salome--honest, I will."

One day he heard Miss Salome speaking of someone who had run away from
home. "A wicked, ungrateful boy," she called him. Chester blushed
until his freckles were drowned out in a sea of red, and Clemantiny
saw it, of course. When did anything ever escape those merciless black
eyes of Clemantiny's?

"Do you think it's always wrong for a fellow to run away, Miss
Salome?" he faltered.

"It can't ever be right," said Miss Salome decidedly.

"But if he wasn't treated well--and was jawed at--and not let go to
school?" pleaded Chester.

Clemantiny gave Miss Salome a look as of one who would say, You're
bat-blind if you can't read between the lines of that; but Miss Salome
was placidly unconscious. She was not really thinking of the subject
at all, and did not guess that Chester meant anything more than
generalities.

"Not even then," she said firmly. "Nothing can justify a boy for
running away--especially as Jarvis Colemen did--never even left a word
behind him to say where he'd gone. His aunt thought he'd fallen into
the river."

"Don't suppose she would have grieved much if he had," said Clemantiny
sarcastically, all the while watching Chester, until he felt as if
she were boring into his very soul and reading all his past life.

When the harvest season drew to a close, dismay crept into the soul of
our hero. Where would he go now? He hated to think of leaving Mount
Hope Farm and Miss Salome. He would have been content to stay there
and work as hard as he had ever worked at Upton, merely for the roof
over his head and the food he ate. The making of a fortune seemed a
small thing compared to the privilege of being near Miss Salome.

"But I suppose I must just up and go," he muttered dolefully.

One day Miss Salome had a conference with Clemantiny. At the end of it
the latter said, "Do as you please," in the tone she might have used
to a spoiled child. "But if you'd take my advice--which you won't and
never do--you'd write to somebody in Upton and make inquiries about
him first. What he says is all very well and he sticks to it
marvellous, and there's no tripping him up. But there's something
behind, Salome Whitney--mark my words, there's something behind."

"He looks so like Johnny," said Miss Salome wistfully.

"And I suppose you think that covers a multitude of sins," said
Clemantiny contemptuously.

       *       *       *       *       *

On the day when the last load of rustling golden sheaves was carried
into the big barn and stowed away in the dusty loft, Miss Salome
called Chester into the kitchen. Chester's heart sank as he obeyed the
summons.

His time was up, and now he was to be paid his wages and sent away. To
be sure, Martin had told him that morning that a man in East Hopedale
wanted a boy for a spell, and that he, Martin, would see that he got
the place if he wanted it. But that did not reconcile him to leaving
Mount Hope Farm.

Miss Salome was sitting in her favourite sunny corner of the kitchen
and Clemantiny was flying around with double briskness. The latter's
thin lips were tightly set and disapproval was writ large in every
flutter of her calico skirts.

"Chester," said Miss Salome kindly, "your time is up today."

Chester nodded. For a moment he felt as he had felt when he left the
provision store in Montrose. But he would not let Clemantiny see him
cry. Somehow, he would not have minded Miss Salome.

"What are you thinking of doing now?" Miss Salome went on.

"There's a man at East Hopedale wants a boy," said Chester, "and
Martin says he thinks I'll suit."

"That is Jonas Smallman," said Miss Salome thoughtfully. "He has the
name of being a hard master. It isn't right of me to say so, perhaps.
I really don't know much about him. But wouldn't you rather stay here
with me for the winter, Chester?"

"Ma'am? Miss Salome?" stammered Chester. He heard Clemantiny give a
snort behind him and mutter, "Clean infatuated--clean infatuated,"
without in the least knowing what she meant.

"We really need a chore boy all the year round," said Miss Salome.
"Martin has all he can do with the heavy work. And there are the
apples to be picked. If you care to stay, you shall have your board
and clothes for doing the odd jobs, and you can go to school all
winter. In the spring we will see what need be done then."

If he would care to stay! Chester could have laughed aloud. His eyes
were shining with joy as he replied, "Oh, Miss Salome, I'll be so glad
to stay! I--I--didn't want to go away. I'll try to do everything you
want me to do. I'll work ever so hard."

"Humph!"

This, of course, was from Clemantiny, as she set a pan of apples on
the stove with an emphatic thud. "Nobody ever doubted your willingness
to work. Pity everything else about you isn't as satisfactory."
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