The captain opened his secretary, took a letter from one of its
pigeon-holes, glanced over the contents, restored the missive to its
place, then turned to Max, who stood patiently waiting by his side.
“We will go out on to the veranda and have our talk there, my boy,” he
said, leading the way, Max following, “the air is so much pleasanter
there than within doors this warm evening.”
“Yes, sir; perfectly delightful, I think, papa; I don’t know where a
lovelier, happier home than ours can be found.”
“Ah, I am very glad you appreciate it, my dear boy,” the captain said,
with a pleasant look, beginning to pace the length of the veranda to
and fro, Max keeping close at his side, “and I shall miss my eldest
hope sadly when the time comes for him to leave the home nest. Have you
made up your mind yet as to what calling you would like best to pursue?”
“I have been thinking a great deal about it of late, papa, and if you
are willing, and there is an opening for me, I want to go into the
navy.”
“I willing? Entirely so. I have not lost my old love for the service,
and shall not grudge my son to it.”
“Perhaps I inherit my love for it from you, papa,” remarked Max. “Any
way, I know that your having been in it, and hearing you speak so
highly of it, has had a good deal to do with my desire to go into it;
and your son could hardly fail to be patriotic and full of love to the
old flag. Then you have furnished me with so much interesting reading
about the doings of our navy in the Revolutionary War, the War of 1812,
and the Civil War, that it’s no wonder I feel a strong desire to help
in its work if we ever have another one.”
“No, I suppose I have only myself to blame,” his father said
pleasantly, “yet I am not at all sure that I should act otherwise if I
could go back to the time of your babyhood and begin over again.
“Well, Max, to-day’s mail brought me the offer of an appointment to a
naval cadetship for my son, if I desired it. My boy, shall I accept for
you?”
“If you think best, papa, I’ll be delighted to have you do it,” Max
said, in a joyous tone. “But am I old enough to go this year?”
“Just the right age,” answered his father, half-sighing at the thought
of the separation the acceptance of the offered appointment must
involve. “But, Max, I fear I may have shown you the pleasant side of
the life too exclusively. I must discourse to you of its hardships,
before allowing you to decide for or against it.”
“I hope, papa, you don’t think me such a milksop or coward that I’d
be frightened at the thought of a little hardship?” Max said, with
heightened color. “I’m sure I ought to be willing to stand as much of
such things as my father did.”
“No, my boy, I should not be the proud and happy father I am if I
were compelled to entertain so mean an opinion of you,” returned the
captain, looking down at the boy with a smile of fatherly pride and
affection. “Perhaps love blinds me to the faults of my first-born, but
to me he seems a son that any man might be proud to call his own; and
if ever tempted to an unworthy act, let the remembrance that it would
go nigh to break your father’s heart to hear of it restrain you from
yielding to the temptation.”
He paused in his walk and laid a hand affectionately on the lad’s
shoulder.
“Papa,” returned Max with emotion, “I think no punishment could be too
bad for a boy that could grieve such a father as mine. I—I think I’d
rather die than know I had hurt you so!”
“I believe it, my son,” responded the captain with feeling; “I have
not the least doubt that you have a very strong affection for me, and
would be very loath to cause me pain. I hope, too, that you are quite
as anxious to please and honor your heavenly Father; much more so,
indeed.
“But let us sit down here while I tell you of the hardening process a
naval cadet must pass through, and the trials of his after-life as an
officer in the service if he be so fortunate as to secure a permanent
place in it.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll be glad to hear anything you can tell me about both. I
suppose I’m not quite sure of getting into the academy, even if I do
accept this offer, am I?”
“No, not quite; there is an examination to pass through, as to both
your physical and educational qualifications. To be accepted, a boy
must be physically sound and of robust constitution; both of which you
are, so far as I can judge; you have never been seriously ill in your
life.
“Beside, the applicant must have a sufficient knowledge of reading,
writing, spelling, geography, English grammar, United States history,
arithmetic, and algebra. You are well grounded in all these, and must
review during your summer vacation, under the tutor who has had charge
of you for some time past,” he added with playful look and tone.
“Papa,” Max said, a little tremulously, “shall I ever have such
another? so kind, so patient, and always so ready to take any amount of
trouble to explain things and make them clear to me?”
“It is not at all impossible that you may find one or more who will be
all that, my boy,” the captain responded, “but certainly none that can
have the same affection for you, the same fatherly joy and pride in
seeing your progress; it would not be natural for any other than your
own parent.”
“No, sir; I know that; and of course I couldn’t feel the same toward
any other teacher.”
“I shouldn’t want you to, Max,” laughed the captain; “I must
acknowledge that I couldn’t be quite willing to have my son loving any
other man with the same filial affection that he gives me.
“But to return to the subject in hand: you will have to resign many
of the luxuries you enjoy at home. You will not be allowed a room to
yourself; you must share it with another cadet, and with him take week
about in keeping it in the most perfect order; sweeping, dusting, and
arranging its contents every morning for inspection; every article will
have a place, and must be found there when not in use.
“Your furniture will be severely plain; an iron bedstead, a wooden
chair, a washstand, looking-glass, wardrobe, rug, and a table which
you will share with your room-mate. You can have no curtains to your
windows, no maps or pictures to adorn your walls.”
“I shouldn’t expect the government to provide such things,” remarked
Max, “but can’t I take some from home?”
“No; it is not allowed.”
“That seems odd, papa. What harm could it do for a boy to have such
things, if his father could afford to provide them?”
“It is because some of the lads may come from very poor families, and
the government chooses—very wisely, I think—that all shall fare alike
while students in that national college.”
“Yes, to be sure,” returned Max thoughtfully; “I think that’s just
as it ought to be; and it will be a trifling hardship to have to do
without such things while I’m there.”
“The discipline is very strict,” the captain went on, “but my boy has
learned to obey one naval officer, and perhaps will in consequence find
it at least comparatively easy to obey others.”
“Yes, sir; I hope so.”
“Your academic standing, number of demerits, and so forth, will be
reported to me once a month, and will gratify or distress me according
to what they are. I am sure the thought of that will be a restraint
upon any inclination my boy may have to idleness or breaches of
discipline.”
“I ought to be called an ungrateful wretch if it doesn’t, papa. How
long is the course?”
“If appointed, you will have to take an oath to serve for eight years,
including the probationary period. After graduating two years are spent
at sea, then there is another examination, and if passed successfully
and there is a vacancy to be filled, there will be an appointment to
the line, and to the marine or the engineer corps of the navy.”
“But if there is no vacancy, papa?”
“The candidate is, in that case, given an honorable discharge, a
certificate of graduation, and one year’s pay.”
“I hope I’ll get through all right and that there’ll be a vacancy ready
for me to fill,” said Max.
“I hope so, my son, if that is your desire; but don’t forget that
there are hardships in a seafaring life that do not fall to the lot
of landsmen: many and long separations from their families, exposure
to danger from disasters at sea or on foreign shores, and others too
numerous to mention at present. Yet it is a life that has many and
great attractions for me. But those I have often told you of.”
“Yes, sir; and all you have told me to-night does not frighten me out
of my wish; life is very easy here at home, and perhaps it may be good
for me to go through some rougher experiences. Don’t you think so,
papa?”
“Yes, I rather agree with you in that; a life of luxury and ease is
not the best for the development of a strong, manly, self-reliant
character.”
“Then you will write and accept for me, will you, sir?”
“Yes.”
“How soon do I go to the academy, papa?”
“In September; and I have a plan for you in the mean time, with which
you will be pleased, I think.
“I find I must pay a visit to some property that I own in the far West,
and I want my son’s companionship on the trip, supposing he fancies
taking it with me.”
The captain looked smilingly into the lad’s eyes as he spoke.
“Oh, papa, how delightful!” cried Max. “Will you really take me with
you?”
“Such is certainly my intention, if nothing happens to prevent,” the
captain replied, smiling to see how pleased the boy was with the
prospect.
“Mamma Vi can hardly be going along on such a trip, I suppose?” Max
said inquiringly.
“Oh no! we could not take the babies along, and she would not be
willing to leave them.”
“Then are you and I to be the whole party, sir?”
“I have some thought of inviting Lulu to go with us,” replied his
father. “Do you think she would like it, and that we two could take
proper care of her?”
Max laughed. “I shouldn’t be a bit afraid to trust anybody to your
care, sir,” he said, “and I’d do anything I could to help. Beside, I
don’t believe Lu’s the sort of girl to give much trouble on such a
journey, and I’m sure she’ll be fairly wild with delight when you tell
her about it, and that she is to go along.”
“I am of the same opinion, and enjoying the prospect of witnessing her
pleasure on hearing the news.
“Well, my son, our talk has been a long one, and it is late; time for a
growing boy, such as you, to be in bed. Bid me good-night and go.”
They both had risen to their feet. Captain Raymond held out his hand
as he spoke. Max promptly put his into it, saying with a bright, happy,
affectionate look up into his father’s face, “Thank you very much,
papa, for all your kind plans for me. Is Lu to hear about the journey
to-night?”
“I think not,” was the reply; “she is so excitable that I fear such
surprising news might keep her awake. I dare say, though, she is
already in bed and asleep.”
To make sure of that, he went softly into her room on his way to his
own. He rarely failed to look in upon his little girls after they had
gone to their rooms for the night, and when he did fail it was a sore
disappointment to them.
Lulu was in bed and had fallen into a doze, but woke at his approach,
albeit he moved with a very quiet step, and started up to a sitting
posture.
“Papa,” she exclaimed in an undertone, mindful not to rouse Grace
from her slumbers in the adjoining room, “oh, I’m so glad you came!”
throwing her arms round his neck as he reached the bedside and bent
down to give her a kiss. “You must have talked a long time to Maxie. I
was really growing jealous,” she added, with a laugh.
“Were you?” he asked, seating himself on the edge of the bed and
drawing her into his arms. “Isn’t Maxie entitled to a fair share of
papa’s attentions, as well as of his love?”
“Oh, yes, indeed! and I wouldn’t want to rob him of a bit of either;
but I do so love the little bedtime chat with you that I’d rather miss
’most anything else.”
“Well, dear child, perhaps we can have an unusually long talk in the
morning to comfort you for the loss to-night. So go to sleep as fast
as you can, that you may be ready for an early waking,” he said. Then
with another kiss and fervent, “Good-night, my darling, and may He who
neither slumbers nor sleeps have you in his kind care and keeping,” he
left her.