Sep. All but what?"

"He spoke once, father, as if he did not like your having bought the
Gap."

"Hah! Very likely; but then you see, Sep, I did not consider myself
bound to ask everybody's permission when I was at the sale, much more
Mr Jonas Uggleston's, so there's an end of that."

"He seemed to think he would have to turn out and go, father," I said,
looking at him rather wistfully, for it appeared to me as if it would be
a great pity if old Uggleston and Bigley did have to turn out, because
we were such friends.

"If Mr Jonas Uggleston will behave, himself like a Christian, and pay
his rent," said my father, "he'll go on just the same as he did under
old Squire Allworth, so he has nothing to complain about whatever."

"May I go and tell him that, father!" I said eagerly.

"No: certainly not."

"I mean after breakfast, father."

"So do I, my boy," he replied. "Don't you meddle with such matters as
that. So you had a good look round the place, eh?"

"Yes, father."

"See many rabbits?"

"Yes, father, plenty."

"That's right. I want to keep that place for a bit of shooting, and I'm
thinking of buying a bigger boat, Sep, and I shall keep her there."

"Oh!" I cried, "a bigger sailing boat?"

"Yes, a much bigger one, my boy--big enough to take quite a cruise. You
must make haste and get finished at school, my lad, and then I can take
you afloat, and make a sailor of you, the same as your grandfather and
great-grandfather used to be."

"Yes, I should like to be a sailor, father," I said.

"Ah, well, we shall see," he replied; "but that is not the business to
see to now. The first thing is to take in rations, so come along and
have breakfast."

I was quite willing, and in a few minutes we were seated in the snug
cottage parlour with the window open, and the scent of the roses brought
in by the breeze off the sea.

"Why, Sep," said my father, after I had been disposing of bacon and eggs
and milk for some time, "how quiet you are! Isn't the breakfast so good
as you get at school?"

"Heaps better, father;" for schools were very different places in those
days to what they are now.

"Then what makes you so quiet?"

"I was thinking how nice it would be if it was always holidays."

"With the sun shining warmly like it is now, and the sky blue, and the
sea quite calm, eh?"

"Yes, father."

"You young goose--I mean gander," he said laughing. "Pleasure that has
not been earned by hard work