Jack at Sea | Page 7

preserving paste."
"And entomological boxes and tins."
"Plenty of spirits, of course, too," cried the doctor. "I say, my little cooking apparatus I designed--it will be invaluable; and I shall treat myself to a new double gun, and a rifle."
"No need, my dear boy; I have plenty. But we must have a thoroughly good supply of fishing-tackle of all kinds."
"And cartridges," said the doctor. "What do you say to clothes for the rough work?"
"We must have plenty, and flannels and pyjamas," said Sir John. "A couple of small portable tents, too."
"And boots for the jungle--high boots. A deal depends on boots."
"No, not high," said Sir John, "they're a nuisance--good lace-up ankle boots, with knickerbockers and leggings."
"Yes, I believe you are right. My word, old fellow, we've got our work cut out to prepare."
"Yes; how soon would you go?"
"As soon as ever we can get away."
"That's the style. Nothing like striking while the iron is hot."
And, full of enthusiasm, the two friends sat throwing suggestions at one another, nearly forgetting the presence of Jack, who did not catch a spark of their excitement, but sat gazing at them with lack-lustre eyes, and a weary, woe-begone expression of countenance, for it seemed to him that all was over, that he was to be dragged away from his studious pursuits to a dreary end. His father and their old friend the doctor meant well, no doubt; but he knew that they were mistaken, and when the doctor left at last, it was for Sir John to wake up to the fact that he had never seen his son look so despondent before.
"Why, Jack, lad, what a face!" cried Sir John merrily.
The boy looked in his eyes, but said nothing. "Come, come, the doctor's right. Put away the books, and help me to prepare for our cruise."
"Then you really mean for us to go, father?" said the lad.
"Yes; I have quite made up my mind." Jack sighed like a girl.
"But you will let me take a few boxes of books, father?"
"A few natural history works of reference, nothing more. Bah! don't be so narrow-minded, boy. We shall be where Nature's own grand library is always open before us to read. We shall want no books. Come, pluck up, my lad; all this means ill health. Instow is perfectly right, and the sooner we begin our preparations the better."
"Father!" cried the boy passionately, "it will kill me."
"No," said Sir John, taking the boy's hand, and laying his own right affectionately upon his shoulder; "if I thought it would hurt you I would not stir a step; but I feel that it is to bring you back to a healthy life."
Jack sighed again, and shook his head.
"Ah," he argued to himself, "life and all that is worth living for--all passing away."
CHAPTER THREE.
IN DOLEFUL DUMP.
"Beg pardon, sir."
Jack raised his head wearily from where it was resting upon his hand by the fireside, and looked dreamingly at the footman who had entered the warm library next morning.
"Head ache, sir?" said the man respectfully; and the well-built, fair, freckled-faced, but good-looking fellow gazed commiseratingly at his young master.
"My head ache, Edward? Yes, sadly, sadly."
"Begging your pardon, sir; it's because you sit over the fire too much."
"What!" cried Jack angrily; "have you got that silly idea in your head too? How dare you!"
"Beg pardon, sir. Very sorry, sir. Don't be angry with me, sir. You see I don't know any better."
"Then it's time you did."
"So it is, Master Jack, so it is; and I want to know better, if you'll help me."
"How can I help you?" said Jack, staring at the man.
"Well, you see, sir, it's like this: I don't get no chance to improve my mind. Up at six o'clock--No," cried the man emphatically, "I will speak the honest truth if I die for it! It ain't much before seven when I begin work, sir, for you see I have such a stiff beard, and it does grow so, I'm obliged to shave reg'lar. Well, say quarter to seven I begin, and it's boots and shoes. When they're done it's hard work to get my knives done before breakfast. Then there's the breakfast cloth to lay, and the toast to make, and after breakfast master's and your dress-clothes to brush; and them done, my plate to clean. That brings me up to laying the cloth for lunch, and--"
"Look here, Edward," cried Jack impatiently, "do you suppose I want to learn all you do in a day?"
"No, sir, of course not. I only wanted you to understand why it is I've no time to improve my mind."
"So much the better for you, Ned," cried Jack. "I've improved mine, and Sir John and the doctor say that I've been doing wrong."
"Do they, sir, really? Well, they ought to know; but all the same