ounded young son of a sea-lawyer?"

"Oh, it's Syd, sure enough," said the captain.

"Then he's grown into an insolent, pragmatical young cock-a-hoop
upstart; and hang it, I should like to spread-eagle him till he came to
his senses."

The boy, who was peeling a scrap of walnut, gave his uncle a sidelong
look and laughed.

"Ah, I would, sir, and no mistake," cried the admiral, fiercely.
"Harry, you don't half preserve discipline in the ship. Here, Syd, it's
time you were off to sea."

The boy took another walnut and crushed it, conscious of the fact that
his father was watching him intently.

"I don't want to go to sea, uncle," said the boy at last, as he picked
off the scraps of broken shell from his walnut.

"What?" roared the admiral. "Here you, sir, say that again."

"I don't want to go to sea, uncle."

"You--don't--want--to go--to sea, sir?"

"No, uncle."

"Well, I am stunned," said the old gentleman, rapidly pouring out and
tossing off a glass of port. "Brother Harry, what have you to say to
this?"

"That it is all nonsense. The boy does not know his own mind."

"Of course not," cried the admiral, turning sharply upon Sydney, who
went on picking the skin from his walnut. "Do you know, sir, that your
family have been sailors as far back as the days of Elizabeth."

"Yes, uncle," said the boy, coolly. "I've often heard you say so."

"And that it is your duty, as the last representative of the family, to
maintain its honour, sir?"

"No, uncle."

"What, sir?" cried the old man, fiercely.

"I'm not fit to be a sailor," continued the boy, quietly enough.

"And pray, why not, Sydney?" said Captain Belton, frowning.

"Because I'm such a coward, father."

"A Belton!" groaned the admiral, "and says he is a coward."

"A boy to be a sailor ought to be fond of the sea."

"Of course, sir," said the captain.

"And I hate it."

"And pray why?" said the admiral, fiercely.

"Because it's so salt," said Syd, busy helping himself to some more of
the condiment he had named.

"Salt?" cried the admiral. "Of course it is, and so it ought to be.
Nonsense! He's laughing at us, Harry--a dog."

"No, I'm not, uncle; I'm not fit to be a sailor."

"Then, pray, what are you fit for, sir?" cried Captain Belton, angrily.

"I mean to be a doctor!"

"What!" roared the two officers together.

_Crack! crack_!

"Put that walnut and those crackers down, sir!" said the captain,
sternly. "I am glad your u