Chapter 2 - Page 2

here on your farm, and be
a farmer, like your father?"

"My father had been a sailor," I answered, quick as lightning.

"True; and a noble, manly, gentleman-like calling it is! I never see
a sailor that I do not envy him his advantages. Why, Miles, neither
of us has ever been in town even, while your mother's boatmen, or your
own, as they are now, go there regularly once a-week. I would give the
world to be a sailor."

"You, Rupert! Why, you know that your father in tends, or, rather,
wishes that you should become a clergyman."

"A pretty appearance a young man of my figure would make in the
pulpit, Miles, or wearing a surplice. No, no; there have been two
Hardinges in the church in this century, and I have a fancy also to
the sea. I suppose you know that my great-grandfather was a captain in
the navy, and _he_ brought _his_ son up a parson; now, turn
about is fair play, and the parson ought to give a son back to a
man-of-war. I've been reading the lives of naval men, and it's
surprising how many clergymen's sons, in England, go into the navy,
and how many sailors' sons get to be priests."

"But there is no navy in this country now--not even a single
ship-of-war, I believe."

"That is the worst of it. Congress _did_ pass a law, two or three
years since, to build some frigates, but they have never been
launched. Now Washington has gone out of office, I suppose we shall
never have anything good in the country."

I revered the name of Washington, in common with the whole country,
but I did not see the _sequitur_. Rupert, however, cared little
for logical inferences, usually asserting such things as he wished,
and wishing such as he asserted. After a short pause, he continued the
discourse.

"You are now substantially your own master," he said, "and can do as
you please. Should you go to sea and not like it, you have only to
come back to this place, where you will be just as much the master as
if you had remained here superintending cattle, cutting hay, and
fattening pork, the whole time."

"I am not my own master, Rupert, any more than you are yourself. I am
your father's ward, and must so remain for more than five years to
come. I am just as much under his control as you, yourself."

Rupert laughed at this, and tried to persuade me it would be a good
thing to relieve his worthy fether of all responsibility in the
affair, if I had seriously determined never to go to Yale, or to be a
lawyer, by going off to sea clandestinely, and returning when I was
ready. If I ever was to make a sailor, no time was to be lost; for all
with whom he had conversed assured him the