Afloat and Ashore

Afloat at Last
by John Conroy Hutcheson
CHAPTER ONE.
IN THE RECTORY GARDEN.
"And so, Allan, you wish to go to sea?"
"Yes, father," I replied.
"But, is there no other profession you would prefer--the law, for
instance? It seems a prosperous trade enough, judging from the fact that
solicitors generally appear well to do, with plenty of money-- possibly
that of other people--in their possession; so, considering the matter
from a worldly point of view, you might do worse, Allan, than join
their ranks."
I shook my head, however, as a sign of dissent to this proposition.
"Well then, my boy," went on father in his logical way, anxious that I
should clearly understand all the bearings of the case, and have the
advantages and disadvantages of each calling succinctly set before me,
"there is medicine now, if you dislike the study of Themis, as your
gesture would imply. It is a noble profession, that of healing the sick
and soothing those bodily ills which this feeble flesh of ours is heir to,
both the young and old alike--an easier task, by the way, than that of
ministering to `the mind diseased,' as Shakespeare has it; although,
mind you, I must confess that a country physician, such as you could
only hope to be, for I have not the means of buying you a London
practice, has generally a hard life of it, and worse pay. However, this is
beside the question; and I want to avoid biassing your decision in any
way. Tell me, would you like to be a doctor--eh?"

But to this second proposal of my father as to my future career, I again
signified my disapproval by shaking my head; for I did not wish to
interrupt his argument by speaking until he had finished all he had to
say on the subject, and I could see he had not yet quite done.
"H'm, the wise man's dictum as to speech being silvern and silence gold
evidently holdeth good with the boy, albeit such discretion in youth is
somewhat rare," he murmured softly to himself, as if unconsciously
putting his thoughts in words, adding as he addressed me more directly:
"You ought to get on in life, Allan; for `a still tongue,' says the proverb,
`shows a wise head.' But now, my son, I've nearly come to the end of
the trio of learned professions, without, I see, prepossessing you in
favour of the two I have mentioned. You are averse to the law, and do
not care about doctoring; well then, there's the church, last though by
no means least--what say you to following my footsteps in that sacred
calling, as your brother Tom purposes doing when he leaves Oxford
after taking his degree?"
I did not say anything, but father appeared to guess my thoughts.
"Too many of the family in orders already--eh? True; still, recollect
there is room enough and work enough, God knows, amid all the sin
and suffering there is in the world, for you also to devote your life to
the same good cause in which, my son, I, your father, and your brother
have already enlisted, and you may, I trust, yet prove yourself a
doughtier soldier of the cross than either of us. What say you, Allan, I
repeat, to being a clergyman--the noblest profession under the sun?"
"No, father dear," I at length answered on his pausing for my reply,
looking up into his kind thoughtful gray eyes, that were fixed on my
face with a sort of wistful expression in them; and which always
seemed to read my inmost mind, and rebuke me with their
consciousness, if at any time I hesitated to tell the truth for a moment,
in fear of punishment, when, as frequently happened, I chanced to be
brought before him for judgment, charged with some boyish escapade
or youthful folly. "I don't think I should ever be good enough to be a
clergyman like you, father, however hard I might try; while, though I
know I am a bad boy very often, and do lots of things that I'm sorry for

afterwards, I don't believe I could ever be bad enough to make a good
lawyer, if all the stories are true that they tell in the village about Mr
Sharpe, the attorney at Westham."
The corners of father's mouth twitched as if he wanted to smile, but did
not think it right to do so.
"You are shrewd in your opinions, Allan," he said; "but dogmatic and
paradoxical in one breath, besides being too censorious in your
sweeping analysis of character. I should like you to show more charity
in your estimate of others. Your diffidence in respect of entering the
church I can fully sympathise with, having felt the same scruples