"I can't wait any more, Dick; I must go to my father," said I.

"Well, off with you then, and I'm off too. Sing tura la, tura la, tura lura la. Bill's coming down. savage the nigger will be !"

How

MERCANTIE

CHAPTER XXXI.

OF NEW YORK

IN WHICH MY FATHER PROVES HE CAN GIVE GOOD ADVICE AS WELL

AS PETER ANDERSON.

I FOUND my father under the colonnade, and inquired of him if Anderson was there.

"No, he's not," replied my father; "he has been sent for by the officers; so stop, Tom, that is, if you can spare a minute for your own father."

"Of course I can,” replied I, taking my seat by him. "Why, you see, boy," said my father, "I have but very little of your company; and I feel it, Tom, I do indeed. I'm not jealous, and I know that Peter Anderson has done more for you than ever I could, for I've no larning to signify; but still, Tom, I am your father, and I don't think Peter, although he may be proud of your turning out so well, can feel exactly for you what a father does. I'm proud enough of you, Heaven knows; and it does hurt me a little when I find that, whenever you come here, it is for Peter Anderson, and it makes me wish sometimes that I had been Peter Anderson instead of your father."

"Indeed, father," replied I, "I hope you don't think that I like Anderson better than I do you; but you

recollect that I have been accustomed all my life to take his advice."

"I know it, boy, I know it. I was serving my country, and doing my duty on board of a king's ship, and you were left here, and therefore lucky it was that you fell in with old Peter; but, Tom, I could not be in two places at the same time, and if I did not do my duty as a father towards you, at all events I was doing my duty to my country."

"To be sure you were, and it was of more importance than looking after a brat like me," replied I, soothingly; for I really never had the idea that my father could have showed so much feeling.

"Why, Tom, I can't say that I thought so; for the fact is, I didn't think about it; indeed, I thought about nothing. Sailors afloat have little time to think they can't think when it's their watch on deck, for they are too busy; nor at their watch below, for they're too tired; nor at meal times, for they must look after their share of the victuals; indeed, there is not any time to think on board ship, and that's a fact. But, Tom, since I've been laid up here I have thought a good deal; all is calm and quiet, and one day passes just like the other, and no fear of interruption when one don't wish it; and I have thought a good deal. At first I thought it a hard case to be shoved on the shelf at my age; but I don't think so now; I'm quite satisfied."

"I'm glad to hear you say so, father."

"Yes, Tom; and then, you see, when I was afloat, I didn't think any good of your mother, and I was glad to keep out of her way; and then I didn't care about

my children, for I didn't know them; but now I've other thoughts, Tom. I don't think your mother so bad, after all: to be sure, she looks down upon me 'cause I'm not genteel; but I suppose I ar'n't, and she has been used to the company of gentlefolks; besides, she works hard, and now that I don't annoy her by getting tipsy, as I used to do, at all events she's civil; and then I never knew what it was to have children until I came here, and found Virginia and you; and I'm proud of you both, and love you both better than anything on earth; and, although I may not be so well brought up or so well taught as you both are, still, Tom, I'm your father, and all I can say is, I wish for your sakes I was better than I am."

"Don't say so, father; you know that Virginia and I are both as fond of you as you are of us."

"Well, mayhap you are; I don't say no: you are both good children, and at all events would try to like me; but still I do feel that you can't look up to me exactly; but that's my misfortune, Tom, more than my fault. I haven't larning like Anderson, or gentility like your mother: I've only a true heart to offer to you. You see, Tom, I've said all this because you are always after Anderson: not but that I like Anderson, for he's a good man, and has been of sarvice to me, and I don't think he would ever say anything to you that would make you think less of me."

"No, indeed, father; on the contrary, I once asked him his opinion about you, and he spoke most highly of you; and whenever I go to him for advice, ho always sends me to you to approve of what he has

"Well, he is a good man, and I'm very sorry to have any feeling of envy in me, that's the truth; but still a father must have a father's feelings. Don't let us say anything more about it, Tom; only try next time, when you want advice, whether I can't give it. You can always go to Peter afterwards, and see whether I'm right or wrong."

"I will indeed, my dear father, now I know that you wish it."

I never felt so warm towards my father as after this conversation; there was so much affection towards me, and yet so much humility shown by him, as respected himself, that I was quite touched with it, and I began to think that he really had had occasion to complain, and that I had not treated him with that respect which he deserved.

"Now, Tom, I've something to say to you. When Anderson, Bramble, and I were taking a pipe together last night, Bramble said that he had a letter from the captain of the Indiaman, offering you a berth on board as guinca-pig, or midshipman. He said that he had not shown it to you as yet, because it was of no use, as he was sure you would not accept it. Well, Anderson and I said that at least you ought to know it, and have the refusal; and your mother pricked up her ears and said that it was much more genteel than being a pilot; so I now put the question to you.”

"Thank you, father; but Bramble was right. I shall not accept of it, although I am much obliged to the captain."

66

Here my father stopped me. "First, Tom," said he. we must overhaul the pros and cons, as people call