Jack at Sea | Page 7

friend's. "Here, Jack," he
cried directly after, "shake hands too. Come, be a man. In less than six
months those dull filmy eyes of yours will be flashing with health, and
you'll be wondering that you could ever have sat gazing at me in this
miserable woe-begone fashion. There, pluck up, my lad. You don't
know what is before you in the strange lands we shall visit. Why, when

your father and I were boys of your age, we should have gone wild with
delight at the very anticipation of such a cruise, and rushed off to our
bedrooms to begin packing up at once, and crammed our boxes with all
kinds of impossible unnecessaries--eh, Meadows?"
"Yes; our skates, cricket-bats--" cried Sir John.
"And fishing-rods, and sticks. I say, though, we must take a good
supply of sea and fresh-water tackle. Fancy trying some river or lake in
the tropics that has never been fished before."
"Yes, and a walk at the jungle edge, butterfly-catching," cried Sir John
eagerly.
"Yes, and a tramp after rare birds, and always in expectation of
bringing down one never yet seen by science," said the doctor.
"And the flowers and plants," said Sir John, "We must take plenty of
cases and 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