xcuse my inexperience, and
declares I shall do very well, and can soon get into his ways. Lady
Ellinor says," I continued with dignity, "that it will be a great
opening in public life for me; and at all events, my dear father, I
shall see much of the world, and learn what I really think will be more
useful to me than anything they will teach him at college."

My mother looked anxiously at my father. "It will indeed be a great
thing for Sisty," said she, timidly; and then, taking courage, she
added--"and that is just the sort of life he is formed for."

"Hem!" said my uncle.

My father rubbed his spectacles thoughtfully, and replied, after a long
pause,--

"You may be right, Kitty: I don't think Pisistratus is meant for study;
action will suit him better. But what does this office lead to?"

"Public employment, sir," said I, boldly; "the service of my country."

"If that be the case," quoth Roland, "have not a word to say. But I
should have thought that for a lad of spirit, a descendant of the old De
Caxtons, the army would have--"

"The army!" exclaimed my mother, clasping her hands, and looking
involuntarily at my uncle's cork leg.

"The army!" repeated my father, peevishly. "Bless my soul, Roland, you
seem to think man is made for nothing else but to be shot at! You would
not like the army, Pisistratus?"

"Why, sir, not if it pained you and my dear mother; otherwise, indeed--"

"Papoe!" said my father, interrupting me. "This all comes of your giving
the boy that ambitious, uncomfortable name, Mrs. Caxton; what could a
Pisistratus be but the plague of one's life? That idea of serving his
country is Pisistratus ipsissimus all over. If ever I have another son
(Dii metiora!) he has only got to be called Eratostratus, and then he
will be burning down St. Paul's,--which I believe was, by the way, first
made out of the stones of a temple to Diana. Of the two, certainly,
you had better serve your country with a goose-quill than by poking a
bayonet into the ribs of some unfortunate Indian; I don't think
there are any other people whom the service of one's country makes it
necessary to kill just at present, eh, Roland?"

"It is a very fine field, India," said my uncle, sententiously; "it is
the nursery of captains."

"Is it? Those plants take up a good deal of ground, then, that might be
more profitably cultivated. And, indeed, considering that the tallest
captains in the world will be ultimately set into a box no