sed always to be raging
about. But for that I should have remained before the mast all my life.
Now in a couple of years or so I'll be a lieutenant."

"Well, well! one never knows how things will turn out. I did think you
were wasting your time in reading, and reading, and reading. I didn't see
what good so much book-learning would do you; but if it got you made an
officer, there is no doubt that you were right and I was wrong. But you
see, lad, I was never taught any better."

"It has all turned out right, John, and there is no occasion for you to
worry over the past. I felt sure that it would do me good some day, so I
stuck to it in spite of your scolding, and you will allow that I was never
backward in turning out when you wanted me for the boat."

"I will allow that, Will, allow it hearty; for there was no better boy in
the village. And so you have been fighting, I suppose, just like Tom
Stevens."

"Just the same, father. We have been together all the time, and we have
come back together."

"And he didn't say a word about it!" the old man said. "He talked about
you just as if you were somewhere over the sea."

"I told him not to tell," Will said, "as I wanted to take you by
surprise."

"But he is not an officer, Will. He is just a sailor like those revenue
men. How does that come about? Didn't he fight well?"

"Yes, no one could fight better. If he had had as much learning as I had
he would have been made an officer too; but, you see, he can hardly read
or write, and, fight as he may, he will always remain as he is. A finer
fellow never stepped; but because he has no learning he must always remain
before the mast."

"And you have lost some fingers I see, Will."

"Yes, they were shot off by a musket-ball in the West Indies. Luckily it
was my left hand; so I manage very well without them."

"I hope you blew off the fingers of the fellow that shot you."

"No, I can't say who did it, and indeed I never felt anything at all until
some little time after."

"I wish I had been there," John said, "I would have had a slap at him with
a musket. That was an unlucky shot, Will."

"Well, I have always considered it a lucky one, for if it had gone a few
inches on one side it would have probably finished me altogether."

"Well, well, it is wonderful to me. Here am I, an old man, and never, so
far as I can remember, been a couple of miles from Scarcombe, and you,
quite a young chap, have been wandering and fighting