Jack at Sea | Page 5

"No," said the lad sadly, "I often lie awake a long time thinking."
"Thinking!" cried the doctor in tones of disgust. "The idea of a healthy
boy thinking when he goes to bed! It's monstrous. An overstrained
brain, my lad. You are thoroughly out of order, my boy, and it was
quite time that you were pulled up short. Frankly, you've been
over-crammed with food to nourish the brain, while the body has been
starved."

"And now, my boy, we're going to turn over a new leaf, and make a
fresh start. Come, doctor, you will prescribe for him at once."
"What! jalap and senna, and Pil. Hydrargerum, and that sort of stuff, to
make him pull wry faces?"
"I do not profess to understand much of such matters; but I should
presume that you would give him tonics. What will you give him to
take--bark?"
"No: something to make him bite."
"Well, what?"
"Nothing!"
"Nothing?"
"Ah, you are like the rest of the clever people, Meadows. You think a
doctor is of no good unless he gives you pills and draughts. But don't
be alarmed, Jack, boy. I am not going to give you either."
"What then?"
"Nothing, I tell you. Yes, I am; fresh air--fresh water."
"Yes; and then?"
"More fresh air, and more fresh water. Look here, Meadows; food is
the best medicine for his case--good, wholesome food, and plenty of it
as soon as he can digest. I want to hear him say, `What's for dinner
to-day?' That's a fine sign of a boy being in good health."
"Well, Jack, what do you say to all this?" said Sir John.
"I don't know what to say, father," replied the lad. "I did not know I
was unwell."
"I suppose not," interposed the doctor. "But you are, and the worst of it

is that you will get worse."
"Then give your instructions," said Sir John, "and we will try and
follow them out--eh, Jack?"
"I will do anything you wish, father," said the boy, with a sigh.
"Yes, of course you will, my boy. Well, doctor, we are waiting. Let's
take the stitch in time."
"Ah! but we can't now," said Doctor Instow. "We shall have to take
nine, or eighty-one, or some other number in what our young
philosopher calls geometrical progression--that's right, isn't it, Jack,
eh?"
"Yes, I suppose so," said the lad, smiling. "Well, then, thread the needle
for us, Instow," said Sir John merrily; "and we will begin to stitch, and
be careful not to neglect our health for the future. Now then, we're both
ready."
"Yes; but I'm not," said the doctor thoughtfully. "This is a ticklish case,
and wants ticklish treatment. You see I know my patient. He is so
accustomed to one particular routine, that it will be hard to keep him
from longing for his customary work and habits. Suppose I prescribe
outdoor work, riding, walking, cricket or football, according to the
season; I shall be giving him repellent tasks to do. I can't make him a
little fellow eager and longing to begin these things which he sees his
bigger school-fellows enjoying. He would be disgusted with games
directly, because others would laugh at him and call him a muff."
"Yes," said Sir John with a sigh, "the rent has grown very large, and I
don't see how we are to sew it up."
"Neither do I," said the doctor; "it's past mending. We must have a new
coat, Jack."
"You mean a new boy, Doctor Instow," said the lad, smiling sadly.
"Had you not better let me be?"

"No," cried Sir John, bringing his fist down heavily upon he table.
"That won't do, Jack. We've done wrong, taken the wrong turning, and
we must go back and start afresh--eh, Instow?"
"Of course," said the doctor testily, "and give me time. I've got plenty
of ideas, but I want to select the right one. Ah! I have it."
"Yes," cried Sir John eagerly, and his son looked at him in dismay.
"That's the very thing. Right away from books and the ordinary routine
of life--fresh air of the best, fresh people, fresh scenes, constant change;
everything fresh but the water, and that salt."
"Some country place at the seaside," said Sir John eagerly.
"No, no; bore the boy to death; make him miserable. Seaside! No, sir,
the whole sea, and get away from the side as soon as possible."
"A sea voyage!" cried Sir John; and his son's face contracted with
horror.
"That's the thing, sir. You have always been grumbling about the
narrowness of your sphere, and envying men abroad who send and
bring such fine collections home. Be off together, and make a big
collection for yourselves of everything you come across worth saving."
"Yes; but where?"
"Anywhere--North Pole;