The Amateur Gentleman

"Ah!--but it's good to have the use of one's legs again!" exclaimed

his Lordship, stretching the members in question, "and that," said he,

turning to Barnabas with his whimsical smile, "that is another value

of the stocks--one never knows how pleasant and useful a pair of

legs can be until one has sat with 'em stretched out helplessly at

right angles for an hour or two." Here, the Bo'sun having stowed

back the key and resumed his hat, his Lordship reached out and

gripped his hand. "So it was Uncle John, was it, Jerry--how very

like Uncle John--eh, Jerry?"

"Never was nobody born into this here vale o' sorrer like the

Cap'n--no, nor never will be--nohow!" said the Bo'sun with a solemn

nod.

"God bless him, eh, Jerry?"

"Amen to that, my Lord."

"You'll let him know I said 'God bless him,' Jerry?"

"I will, my Lord, ay, ay, God bless him it is, Master Horatio!"

"Now as to my Roman--my father, Jerry, tell him--er--"

"Be you still set on squaring away for London, then, sir?"

"As a rock, Jerry, as a rock!"

"Then 't is 'good-by,' you're wishing me?"

"Yes, 'good-by,' Jerry, remember 'God bless Uncle John,'

and--er--tell my father that--ah, what the deuce shall you tell him

now?--it should be something a little affecting--wholly dutiful, and

above all gently dignified--hum! Ah, yes--tell him that whether I

win or lose the race, whether I break my unworthy neck or no, I

shall never forget that I am the Earl of Bamborough's son. And as

for you, Jerry, why, I shall always think of you as the jolly old

sea dog who used to stoop down to let me get at his whiskers, they

were a trifle blacker in those days. Gad! how I did pull 'em, Jerry,

even then I admired your whiskers, didn't I? I swear there isn't such

another pair in England. Good-by, Jerry!" Saying which his Lordship

turned swiftly upon his heel and walked on a pace or two, while

Barnabas paused to wring the old seaman's brown hand; then they went

on down the hill together.

And the Bo'sun, sitting upon the empty stocks with his wooden pin

sticking straight out before him, sighed as he watched them striding

London-wards, the Lord's son, tall, slender, elegant, a gentleman to

his finger tips, and the commoner's son, shaped like a young god,

despite his homespun, and between them, as it were linking them

together, fresh and bright and young as the morning, went the joyous

Spirit of Youth.