cried Sydney.

"Well, get it done, boy," said the old gentleman, "for I want my
breakfast. Oh, here is Broughton."

The butler entered with a rack of hot dry toast, and as he advanced to
the table the admiral exclaimed--

"Now, sir, look here; you've made a nice mess of my phiz. What have you
got to say to this?"

The butler raised his eyes as he set down the toast, gazed full in the
old gentleman's face, his own seemed frozen solid for a moment, and
then, clapping the napkin he carried to his mouth to smother his
laughter, he turned and fled.

"And that son of a sea-cook begged my pardon last night, and said he was
sorry. Yes, I am a sight. Look at my eyes, Harry, swollen up and
black. There's a nose for you; and one lip cut. Why, I never got it so
bad in action. And all your fault, Syd. There, I forgive you, boy."

"Well, it's impossible to give this boy a serious lecture now, Tom,"
said the captain, wiping his eyes, as he passed the coffee.

"Of course. Who wants serious lectures?" said the admiral, testily.
"The boy did wrong, and he came back and said he was sorry for it.
You've told me scores of times that you never flogged a man who was
really sorry for getting into a scrape. Give me some of that ham, Syd,
and go on eating yourself. I say, rum old punch I look, don't I?"

Syd made no reply, but filled his uncle's plate, and the breakfast went
on nearly to the end before the topic dreaded was introduced.

"Well, Sydney," said his father, rather sadly, "so I suppose I must let
you be a doctor?"

"Wish he was one now," cried the admiral. "I'd make him try to make me
fit to be seen. Humph! doctor, eh? No; I don't think I shall try to be
ill to give you a job, Syd; but I'm very glad, my boy, that you did not
take that money."

Sydney bent over his coffee, and his father went on--

"It's like letting you win a victory, sir, but I suppose I must give in.
I don't like it though."

"Humph! more do I," said Sir Thomas. "I'll forgive you though if you
train up for a naval surgeon. Do you hear, sir?"

"Yes, uncle, I hear," said Sydney.

"Then why don't you speak?"

"I was thinking of what you said, uncle."

"Humph! Well, I hope you'll take it to heart."

"Yes," said his father; "you may as well be a surgeon."

"That's what I should have liked to be," said Sydney, "if I had been a
doctor."

"Well, you're going to be, sir. Your uncle and I have talked it over,
and you shall study for