Syd Belton | Page 2

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 uncle started this subject, for it was time we had an
explanation. Do you know that with his interest at the Admiralty and
mine you could be entered on board a first-rate man-of-war?"
"Yes, and well looked after, sir," cried the admiral; "so that when you
had properly gone through your term, and been master's mate long
enough, your promotion would have been certain."
"Yes, uncle, father has often said so," replied Sydney, reaching for
another walnut, and taking up the crackers.
"Put that walnut down, sir," cried his father.
Sydney obeyed, and to keep his hands under control thrust them in his
pockets and leaned back in his chair.
"Well, sir," said his uncle, "does not that make you feel proud?"
"No, uncle."
"What! Don't you know that you would have a uniform and wear a
sword--I mean a dirk?"
"Yes, uncle."
"Well, sir? Why, at your time of life I was mad to have my uniform."
"What for?" said the boy.
"What for, sir? What for? Why, to wear, of course."
"I don't want to wear a uniform. You couldn't climb trees, nor go
fishing, nor shrimping, nor riding in a uniform."
"No, sir," continued the admiral, after winking and frowning at his
brother to leave the boy to him, "of course not. You would be an officer

and a gentleman then, and wear a cocked hat."
"Ha! ha! ha!"
The boy burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and his father frowned.
"Sydney--" he began.
"No, no, Harry, leave him to me," said the admiral; "I'll talk to him.
Now, sir," he continued, turning to the boy sternly, "pray what did I say
to make you start grinning like a confounded young monkey? I--I--I am
not accustomed to be laughed at by impertinent boys."
"I was not laughing at you, uncle," said the boy, dragging one hand
from his pocket and making a lunge at an apple.
"Leave that fruit alone, sir," said the admiral, "and don't tell me a
confounded lie, sir. You did laugh at me."
"I did not," said the boy; "and that's not a lie."
"What!" roared the admiral, turning purple. "How dare you, sir! To the
mast-head at once, and stop there till--"
A hearty burst of laughter from his brother and nephew quelled the old
man's anger.
"Ah, you may laugh at that," he said. "Force of habit. But you've got to
apologise, you young monkey, for what you said."
"I can't apologise for what I did not do," said the boy, stubbornly.
"What, sir?"
"Steady, steady, sir," said the captain. "He's a confoundedly impudent
young scamp, but he could not tell a lie."
"But he laughed in my face, Harry?"

"I was laughing at myself, uncle."
"At yourself, sir?"
"Yes, I was thinking what a popinjay I should look in a cocked hat."
"Well, really," said the admiral, "I am beginning to be glad, Harry, that
I never married and had a son. I used to be envious about this boy, and
wanted a share in him. But a boy who can laugh at a part of his
Majesty's uniform--well! Why, you young whipper-snapper, did I ever
look a--a--a popinjay in my cocked hat?"
"Well, you used to look very rum, uncle."
"Harry, my dear boy," said the admiral, fiercely; "we are old men, and
this young dog represents us. May I take him into the library, and give
him a good caning?"
"No, Tom, certainly not."
"No, of course not, Harry; I beg your pardon. Now, sir--pass that
port--and--a--don't fill your own glass. Port like that, sir, is only fit for
gentlemen. And you--you want to be a doctor, eh?"
"Yes, uncle," said the boy, pushing the decanter along the table.
"And pray what for, sir?"
"To do good to people."
"What? A doctor do good! Rubbish! Never did me a bit of good."
"Oh, but they do, uncle."
"Never, sir. That Liss has pretty well poisoned me over and over
again."
"Oh, uncle, what a--"

"You say that if you dare, sir," cried the old admiral, bringing his hand
down bang upon the table, and making the glasses dance. "It's the truth.
Always made my gout worse. Colchicum--colchicum--colchicum--and
the pain awful. Doctors are an absurd new invention, and of no use
whatever."
"Why, you always have a doctor on board ship."
"Surgeon, you young dog, surgeon. Doctor! Bah! Hang all doctors! A
surgeon is of some use in action, cutting, and splicing, and fishing a
poor fellow's limbs; but a doctor--"
At that moment a rubicund butler opened the dining-room door, and
stood back for