ill 
 
 m 
 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 DAVIS 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Mrs. PAUL M. GRANT 
 
|P RANK HELD A SPY GLASS FOR LOUISE "JE VAIS MA PATRIE! 
 EXCLAIMED THE YOIW* GIRL,. 
 
 1 'will be a gentleman, pa^a 60. 
 
I WILL BE A GENTLEMAN 
 
 A BOOK FOR BOYS 
 
 By MRS. TUTIIILL. 
 
 " A ruffle, cravat, or a cane, 
 With him is the pink of perfection ; 
 
 A tassel or watch-key he deems 
 The very tip-top of gentility; 
 
 And plain common sense he esteeo 
 Scarpe worthy ot decent civility." 
 
 THIRTY-SEVENTH EDITION 
 
 BOSTON: 
 CROSBY AND NICHOLS. 
 
 1863. 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
filtered accoidirg to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by 
 WILLIAM CROSBY, 
 
 in the Clerk's office of tne maitict Court for the District of 
 
 Massachusetts. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 I. JUTENILE GENTLEMEN, 1 
 
 II. SENT TO SCHOOL, , 8 
 
 III. SISTERLY AFFECTION, 18 
 
 IV A RETURN, . 25 
 
 V. JOSEPH AT HOME, 29 
 
 VI. A SUDDEN RESOLUTION, 35 
 
 VII. THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR, 38 
 
 VIII. RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME, 46 
 
 IX. NEW ACQUAINTANCES, . 54 
 
 X. BEAU BRANDON ASHORE, 63 
 
 XI. THE PARTING, . . 68 
 
 XII. A STORM AT SEA, . . 72 
 
 Kill. A SAIL, . . 82 
 
 XIV. FATAL, ... 87 
 
 XV. REMEMBERED KINDNESS, 99 
 
 XVI. A SURPRISE, . 102 
 
 XVII. THE AZORES, . 110 
 
 XVIII. HOMEWARD BOUND, . 117 
 
 XIX. HOME, ... 125 
 
 XX. ANOTHER MEETING, 131 
 
 XXI. BETTER HOPES, . . 137 
 
 XXII. AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE, , . 143 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 
 
 I WILL be a gentleman ! Why ? because you 
 whisk about a little dandy cane, smoke cigars, 
 and toss your hat on one side of your head ? Is 
 that the way to be a gentleman ? 
 
 One afternoon, last spring, there had been a 
 sudden gust of wind and a slight shower of rain. 
 It soon passed over, the sun shone out brightly, 
 and the rain-drops sparkled like diamonds upon 
 the trees of Boston Common. 
 
 The Boston boys love the Common, and well 
 they may, for where could they find a more glo- 
 rious play-ground ? During the shower the boys 
 had taken shelter under the trees ; as soon as it 
 had passed they resumed their amusements. 
 
 On one of the crossings, or walks, appeared a 
 small, plainly-dressed old woman, with a cane in 
 1 
 
2 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 
 
 one hand and a large green umbrella in the other* 
 She was bent with age and infirmity, and walked 
 slowly. The green umbrella was open, and 
 turned up in the most comical manner. The 
 wind had suddenly reversed it, without the knowl* 
 edge or consent of the old lady, and she now 
 held it in one hand, like a huge flower with a 
 long stalk. 
 
 " Hurrah ! hurrah ! " cried one of the boys, 
 pointing to the umbrella, " mammoth cabbages 
 for sale ! mammoth cabbages ! " 
 
 The whole rabble of boys joined in the cry, 
 and ran hooting after the poor old woman. She 
 looked around at them with grave wonder, and 
 endeavoured to hasten her tottering footsteps. 
 
 They still pursued her, and at length began 
 pelting with pebbles the up-standing umbrella ; 
 some crying " Mammoth cabbages ! " and others, 
 "New-fashioned sun-shades ! " 
 
 She turned again, and said, with tears in her 
 eyes, " What have I done, my little lads, that you 
 should thus trouble me ? " 
 
 "It is a shame," said a neatly dressed, fine 
 looking boy, who rushed through the crowd to 
 the rescue of the poor old woman. 
 
 " Madam," said he, " your umbrella has turn- 
 
JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 3 
 
 bd in the wind ; will you allow me to slose it for 
 you ?" 
 
 "Thank you," she replied. "Then that is 
 what those boys are hooting at. Well, it does 
 look funny," added she, as she looked at the 
 cause of their merriment. The kind-hearted boy 
 endeavoured to turn it down, but it was no easy 
 task ; the whalebones seemed obstinately bent 
 upon standing upright. 
 
 The boys now changed the object of their at- 
 tack, and the pebbles rattled like hail upon the 
 manly fellow who was struggling to relieve the 
 poor woman from her awkward predicament. 
 
 "You are a mean fellow, to spoil our fun," 
 said they ; " but you can't come it ; you can't 
 come it ; cabbage leaves will grow upward." 
 
 He however at length succeeded, and, closing 
 the troublesome umbrella, handed it to the old 
 woman with a polite bow. 
 
 " Thank you, thank you> a thousand times, Sir," 
 said she, "and I should like to know your name, 
 that I may repay you whenever I can find an 
 opportunity." 
 
 " By no means," replied he, " T am happy to 
 ftave rendered you this trifling service ; " and he 
 walkei away. 
 
4 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 
 
 *' Well," said she, " whoever you are your 
 father and mother have reason to be proud of 
 you, for you are a gentleman, a perfect gen- 
 tleman." 
 
 And so he will be ; and I wish I could tell you 
 his name, that you may see if my prophecy does 
 not prove true. 
 
 " Manners make the man," you may often have 
 written in very legible characters in your copy- 
 book ; they certainly do go very far towards 
 making the gentleman. 
 
 I knew a boy once who thought a " long coat," 
 as he called it, would make him a gentleman. 
 Christopher, (for so I shall take the liberty to 
 call him, though that was not his real name,) 
 Christopher lived in the country, and was going 
 to New York, on his first visit. His father was 
 very indulgent, and, yielding to his entreaty, al- 
 lowed the country tailor to make Christopher a 
 blue broadcloth dress-coat, with bright gilt but- 
 tons. Silly boy ! he was mightily pleased with 
 his beautiful coat, and tried it on again and again, 
 and almost wrung his neck to see how it fitted 
 him in the back and about the shoulders. He 
 did not wear it, for fear of taking off the gloss, 
 till he got to New York. No sooner had he step. 
 
JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. O 
 
 ped upon the dock there, than one of the boys 
 belonging to the gang that always assemble about 
 the steamboat landings espied the glossy new coat. 
 u Mister ! Mister ! " said he, " how much will you 
 take for your long-tailed coat ? " 
 
 A country lad, somewhat older than Christo- 
 pher, who had before visited the city, was to be 
 his guide through the great metropolis. They 
 hurried along without taking much notice of the 
 insult, Christopher merely saying, " I suppose 
 these are what they call dock-rats." 
 
 But it is no easy matter to get rid of the mis- 
 chievous rogues. A whole troop of young tatter- 
 demalions followed, crying " Mister ! Mister ! 
 what will you take for the long-tailed blue ? " 
 
 Christopher turned an imploring look towards 
 them, which struck them as peculiarly ludicrous, 
 for they began imitating it, with their thumbs on 
 their noses and their fingers in rapid motion, 
 
 The country boys, quite dismayed, started 
 upon a full run, the skirts of Christopher's coat 
 flying out behind him, like the tail of a kite. 
 Their persecutors took mud from the gutters 
 <ind threw after them, crying, " Look out for the 
 brassy buttons ! there goes Tom Thumb, junior." 
 
 Christopher and his companion were at last 
 
6 JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. 
 
 obliged to take refuge in a shop, and when the 
 "dock-rats" had dispersed, they sneaked back 
 to the steamboat. Christopher took off his 
 mud-bespattered coat, his once beautiful, glossy 
 coat, and, putting on his old round-about jacket, 
 sagely concluded that the coat does not make 
 the gentleman. 
 
 " Bill what are you, a Loco-Foco or a Whig ? '* 
 said one of these would-be-gentleman to a boy 
 about his own age ; they might have been each 
 twelve years old, or thereabouts. 
 
 " I am a Loco-Foco, 'cause mother is a Whig. 
 She is for ever talking about it ; and it is my opin- 
 ion that women have notning to do with politics, 
 and I should be ashamed to be what my mar 
 wants to have me. That 's the reason 1 am such 
 a raving, tearing Loco-Foco." 
 
 " That 's right, Bill,'" was the reply, "you had 
 just as lief your anxious mar would know you 
 are out as not." 
 
 " Sure I had ! None of your mammy-calves 
 for me. I am thankful that I shall be a man 
 before my mother." So saying, the youngster 
 spit out the tobacco-juice from his mouth in the 
 most approved manner. The accomplishment 
 must have required a great deal of practice. 
 
JUVENILE GENTLEMEN. < 7 
 
 " Their feet perhaps may want a shoe, 
 
 Yet they are patriots through and through, 
 Their tongues can for their country roar, 
 As loud as twenty men or more. " 
 
 Disrespect for a mother's opinion, certainly, 
 never will make a boy u gen^atiiUii. The wisest 
 and best men that ever lived have acknowledged, 
 with gratitude, that they owed iheir wisdom and 
 goodness more to their mother's influence than 
 any other earthly cause. It is a very bad sign 
 when a boy or a man speaks disrespectfully of 
 his mother. 
 
 Women, it is true, have not much to do with 
 politics, but they have a right to an opinion, and 
 hey often form correct ones. 
 
CHATTER 
 
 SENT TO SCHOOL. 
 
 JOSEPH BRANDON was a boy who did not respect 
 his mother's opinion ; yet she was a good woman, 
 an excellent woman. Joe wanted to be a gentle- 
 man, and did not like to be tied to his mother's 
 apron-string. She was a widow, and Joe was her 
 only son. She had a house of her own, and a 
 snug, pretty house it was ; and she had a small 
 but comfortable income from well-invested funds. 
 She had made up her mind to send Joe to col- 
 lege, and for this purpose she instructed her two 
 daughters at home, that she might save by that 
 means enough to educate her son in the best pos- 
 sible manner. The two girls, Susan and Fanny, 
 were affectionate and kind to their mother, and 
 as nice, pretty girls as one would wish to see. 
 
 Joe was the most tormenting tease to his 
 
SENT TO SCHOOL. l) 
 
 sisters. He pulled the ears of Susan's favorite 
 kitten every time he could get a chance. He 
 trampled upon the flower-beds in Fanny's little 
 garden. Because Susan had a small nose, he gave 
 her the ' sobriquet of Pug ; and Fanny, who had 
 light brown hair, he called Tow. In short, he in- 
 vented every possible way to make them uncom 
 fortable, until Mrs. Brandon concluded that she 
 must send Joe away to school. He had got en- 
 tirely beyond her management, and had not the 
 least respect for her opinions. 
 
 The morning came for Joe's departure for 
 school. His kind mother had prepared every 
 thing for his comfort in the neatest order. His 
 sisters had each secretly put a little packet of 
 " goodies " into Joe's carpet bag, that he was to 
 have the pleasure of coming upon unexpectedly, 
 when far from home. 
 
 The stagecoach was at the door. Joe drew 
 on his new kid gloves with a very important air, 
 and called out to the driver, " Here, fellow, come 
 and take my luggage." It was carried out. 
 
 " Good by, mother," said he, in a swaggering 
 kind of indifferent manner. 
 
 " Stop, Joseph, my son," said Mrs. Brandon, 
 " are you not going to give us one kiss before 
 
10 SENT TO SCHOOL. 
 
 you leave ? We shall not see you again in a very 
 long time." 
 
 " Do n't make such a baby of me, mother," he 
 replied, pushing her aside, and rushing out. 
 
 u God bless you my son ; be a good boy," said 
 she. 
 
 " Pug and Tow, good by," said Joe, springing 
 upon the top of the stagecoach. The driver 
 snapped his whip and the horses went off at full 
 speed. 
 
 Mrs. Brandon and the girls went back into their 
 little parlour and sat down and wept together right 
 heartily. Ah, how little do men know of the 
 tenderness of woman's affection ! Although Jo- 
 seph Brandon had tyrannized over his mother 
 and sisters, and been a continual trouble to them, 
 no sooner had he left them than they forgot all 
 his faults, and loved him dearly, as a son and 
 brother. 
 
 Joe's first letter home will give an account of 
 his journey. It was as follows : 
 
 DEAR MOTHER : 
 
 You told me to write to you as soon I could, I 
 only arrived yesterday. 
 
 I met with a little bit of an accident on the 
 
SENT TO SCHOOL. 11 
 
 road. There was a big fellow on the top of the 
 coach who took it into his head to be very saucy 
 to me. He was a travelling pedler, or some such 
 sort of thing, with his box of jewelry, spectacles, 
 &c., who had got tired of trudging, and had 
 coaxed the driver to give him a lift for a mile or 
 two. 
 
 I would not bear the vulgar fellow's imperti 
 nence, so I threw his box of gimcracks into thi, 
 road. He made a mighty fuss about it, and the 
 driver stopped for him to pick it up. When he 
 opened it, the glasses of some of the spectacles 
 were broken, and several of the crystals to his 
 pewter watches. Would you believe it, he threat- 
 ened to sue my parents ? But I took out five dol- 
 lars and gave him, telling him another time to 
 mind who he was saucy to. You know, mother, 
 after what had happened, I wanted him to know 
 that he had insulted a gentleman. I do n't be- 
 lieve his whole pedler-concern was worth five dol- 
 lars, for he looked at the money with surprise, 
 and all the people in the coach seemed to feel 
 that I was somebody. 
 
 You know, mother, that was all the money I 
 had with me, and therefore I expect by return of 
 mail that you will send me some more. 
 
12 SENT TO SCHOOL. 
 
 I do n't know yet how I shall like the school. 
 Tell Pug that there is a boy in our school whose 
 nose has just such a turn up as hers, and there 
 are Tow-heads in abundance. 
 
 From your affectionate son, 
 
 JOSEPH BRANDON. 
 
 The widow had given her son the five dollars 
 for spending money, for the whole term. She 
 had not a dollar left in her own purse. What 
 could be done ? The girls read the letter. 
 
 " I would not send him a fourpence," said Su- 
 san. " Extravagant fellow ! and so foolish, too, to 
 give five dollars to a pedler to show him he was a 
 gentleman ! Mother, let him go without money 
 a while, till he knows better how to use it." 
 
 " But," said Fanny, whose affectionate disposi- 
 tion ever led her to self-sacrificing kindness, 
 " but, mother, he may want something that we 
 have not thought of; I will send him the gold 
 piece that Aunt Mary gave me last Christmas." 
 
 " No, my dear child," quickly replied Mrs. 
 Brandon, " you ought not do to that. Poor fel- 
 low, I do not know what will happen if he should 
 need any thing among strangers." 
 
 " He shall have it, he shall have it," exclaimed 
 Fanny. 
 
SENT TO SCHOOL. 13 
 
 " A part of it, my child," said Mrs. Brandon. 
 16 1 am sorry, indeed, to have your dear aunt's gift 
 changed ; but if you will lend it to Joseph, Mr. 
 Fuller, the grocer, will change it for you." 
 
 Fanny's sun-bonnet was on in a moment, and 
 she flitted, like a bird, across the street with the 
 gold piece, and soon returned with a two-dollar 
 bill and a three. 
 
 " Send him the three," said Fanny. 
 
 " The two, mother, the two, " said Susan ; " Joe 
 is a mean fellow, and I do not doubt that he in- 
 sulted the man first." 
 
 " I will send him the two," said the widow, and 
 she inclosed it in the following 
 
 LETTER. 
 
 MY DEAR JOSEPH : 
 
 It is with deep regret that I am compelled to 
 blame you, yet much to blame you certainly 
 are. 
 
 Let me tell you, in the first place, that I had no 
 money to send you; the inclosed is the gift of 
 dear little Fanny, who changed her aunt's pres- 
 ent, the favorite gold-piece, that she might be 
 able to aid you. 
 
 And you wish to be a gentleman, Joseph, 
 
14 SENT TO SCHOOL. 
 
 Was it like one to get into a quarrel with the 
 pedler? No; it was much more like a swagger- 
 ing bully. A true gentleman is quiet, unobtrusive, 
 and, as the very name implies, gentle. I know 
 that boys of your age very generally suppose 
 that noisy, dashing manners mark the gentleman ; 
 and consider a mild, peaceable deportment as girl- 
 ish in the extreme. 
 
 I have no doubt that the famous Bayard, the 
 chevalier sans peur et sans reproche, had very 
 amiable and delicately gentle manners, although 
 he was the bravest of the brave. 
 
 Sir Philip Sidney, who lived in the reign of 
 Elizabeth of England, was a man of remarkable 
 bravery, as well as a perfect gentleman ; it was 
 said that his life was poetry in action. Do you 
 suppose that he had the bold, swaggering manners 
 that you admire? I imagine them resembling 
 sweet music, perfect harmony, soothing and 
 exalting to the feelings. 
 
 Our own Washington, too, with his noble hero- 
 ism, his indomitable spirit, how calm and quiet 
 were his manners ! What simple, natural digni- 
 ty, with the refinement and chivalrous politeness 
 of a gentleman ! A model for every American 
 boy. 
 
SENT TO SCHOOL. 15 
 
 Lavish expenditure of money is no mark of a 
 gentleman. Give to every one what is justly due 
 and be capable of true generosity. You must, IL 
 fact, be just, before you can be generous. How 
 seldom is generosity perfect and pure ! How 
 often do men give, because it throws a certain 
 inferiority on those who receive, and a superi- 
 ority on themselves. 
 
 Your fellow-travellers, Joseph, were not im- 
 posed upon by your false generosity to the ped- 
 ler. They probably thought you a very foolish 
 boy, throwing away your parents' money. You 
 were far from coming off triumphantly, as you 
 imagined, by dashing off your five dollars. You 
 cannot " buy golden opinions of all sorts of 
 men," with money. The worldly may seek the 
 rich and the prodigal for their own interest, and 
 to answer their own selfish ends ; respect for the 
 man himself is a very different thing from the 
 tribute paid to his wealth. Besides, you are not 
 wealthy, and pretending to be so was not only 
 folly, but sin. 
 
 Do you not suppose, my dear Joseph, that the 
 son who stayed at home and labored faithfully 
 with his father was more of a gentleman than 
 the Prodigal Son? Was the Prodigal a gentle- 
 
16 SENT TO SCHOOL - 
 
 man, when spending his substance in " riotous liv- 
 ing," any more than when he sat down among 
 the swine, and would have eaten with them of the 
 husks ? A miserable way, indeed, did he take to 
 be a gentleman, and yet it is not a very uncom- 
 mon one. Many hard-working fathers and moth- 
 ers have gentleman sons, idle and extravagant, 
 very like the Prodigal. No doubt he thought he 
 was much more generous and noble-spirited than 
 his brother. I can even conceive of his thinking 
 himself, in rags and dirt, a reduced gentleman. 
 
 Remember, then, my son, prodigality is no 
 mark of a gentleman. 
 
 I have already written so long a letter that I 
 can only add my fervent wishes for your success 
 at school. Be obedient and studious. 
 
 How much of my comfort during the remain- 
 der of my pilgrimage depends upon you, Joseph. 
 
 " When I am feeble, old and gray, 
 Your healthy arm must be my stay, 
 And you must wipe my tears away." 
 
 How sweetly you once lisped out those simple 
 lines, so familiar to every child, and I fondly 
 believed that your heart would ever be true to 
 your MOTHER. 
 
 Susan aid Fanny send love. 
 
SENT TO SCHOOL. 17 
 
 And how did Joe feel on the reception of his 
 mother's letter ? He glanced his eye hastily over 
 it, took out the money, and exclaimed, " Only 
 two dollars how mean!" then threw the letter 
 into his trunk, and tried to stifle the reproaches of 
 sonscience. Alas! too well did he succeed. 
 
CHAPTER III, 
 
 SISTERLY AFFECTION. 
 
 SEVERAL weeks passed, and no answer was re- 
 turned to his mother. Fanny went every day to 
 the post-office, and returned home disappointed. 
 Susan said it was just like him not to write, but 
 she would bring a letter ; so she immediately wrote 
 **ie following epistle : 
 
 A pretty fellow are you, Joe, not to answer 
 dear mother's kind letter ! Here we haunt the 
 post-office, week after week, till I am absolutely 
 ashamed. Poor Fanny says nothing, but tries to 
 comfort us. You know it was her money that 
 you received, and you have not even thanked her. 
 
 My pet, Snowball, is growing so cat-like that 
 I have discarded her, and taken to petting your 
 poor old Hero, who really grieves at your ab- 
 
SISTERLY AFFECTION. 19 
 
 sence. His faithfulness to his master is really 
 touching. 
 
 I do not think that you behave well, but yet 
 you are my brother, and in spite of all your 
 naughtiness I love you. I have not much news 
 to tell you. We have almost finished Old Rol- 
 lin, only twenty pages more to read. Mother 
 has already begun to knit your winter stockings, 
 and seems to think of you every minute. 
 
 It is a great etFort for me to write, for you know 
 I am not very literary, and you will, I am sure, 
 acknowledge this from your sister, 
 
 SUE, 
 
 Like many other mothers, Mrs. Brandon was 
 willing to make every personal sacrifice for her 
 son, hoping that he might become a good and 
 useful man, Fearing that her means would not 
 be sufficient to carry him through college, sha 
 dismissed her only domestic, and with the aid of 
 her daughters performed all the household labor. 
 She did not, in consequence, neglect their in- 
 tellectual culture. Neither did she lose her 
 lady-like appearance, or allow her daughters to 
 be neglectful of theirs. Every person, capable 
 of judging, would have said that Mrs. Brandon 
 
20 SISIERLY AFFECTION. 
 
 was a lady, and that her daughters were becom- 
 ing more and more like their mother. 
 
 Joseph, soon after the reception of Susan's let- 
 ter, wrote a short but dutiful one to his mother, 
 and at the same time the following to his sister 
 Fanny, 
 
 DEAR LITTLE Tow : 
 
 It was very kind in you to change your beloved 
 gold for me. If you will send me the remaining 
 three dollars I will send you the first gold-piece 
 that I get, and you shall again admire the effect 
 through the meshes of your little purse. 
 
 Do n't say a word to mother about this letter. 
 It is a matter between ourselves. I want a new 
 cap desperately. Mine is a shabby countrified 
 thing, of a different fashion from what the boys 
 wear here, and you know I must appear like a 
 gentleman^ for one of these days I shall be one, 
 and then I will see that mother, and Susan, and 
 you, live in elegant style, and have every thing 
 you wish. Susan is not as generous as you, 
 Fanny, ant therefore you must not tell her about 
 the money. Just inclose the bank-note carefully 
 in a letter, and put it into the post-office director 1 
 to mo. I know you will oblige your brother, 
 
 JOSEPH. 
 
SISTERLY AFFECTION. 21 
 
 Fanny was an amiable, affectionate little girl 
 only eleven years old. She had never written 
 a letter to send through the post-office. She had 
 never done any thing without her mother's con- 
 sent, and it was a fearful task that her brother 
 had imposed upon her. She feared it was wrong 
 to do as he requested, but her brother's letter 
 seemed to her youthful fancy so kind, so affec- 
 tionate, and so great was her desire to oblige 
 him, that after a violent struggle in her own mind 
 she determined to send him the money. 
 
 She took her little writing-desk into her own 
 room, and sat down, trembling, to write. 
 
 She made several attempts before she sue- 
 ceeded to her own satisfaction, and, indeed, she 
 was not very well satisfied at last. 
 
 DEAR JOSEPH : 
 
 I am very sorry that you do not wish me to tell 
 mother about this money that I now send to you* 
 She would not tell me not to send it, I am sure 
 because you really want it. I hope it is not 
 vrong to write without her knowing it. O, do 
 try to make a good man. Our dear mother praya 
 for you every morning and night, and talks about 
 you a great deal 
 
22 SISTERLY AFFECTION. 
 
 I am so afraid Susan will come up stairs, ana 
 find me writing, that I must stop. O, dear ! I 
 have got to put this in the post-office, and I shall 
 remble so. I shall feel like a little thief. 
 From your loving sister, 
 
 FANN. 
 
 P. S. You won't call us Pug and Tow any 
 more, will you ? Susan's nose is really quite 
 pretty, and my hair grows darker every day. 
 
 Fanny did feel as she said she should, " like a 
 little thief," when she stealthily stole to the office 
 and deposited her letter. 
 
 Joe must have felt as meanly as if he had been 
 robbing a hen-roost when he took out the three 
 dollars. He did. But then he thought immedi- 
 ately how necessary it was that he should look 
 tike a gentleman, and he went and % bought a 
 new black cloth cap with a very large tassel, and 
 strutted about in a very consequential manner. 
 
 The next Saturday evening, Mrs. Brandon and 
 lier daughters sat in their neat little piazza, ad- 
 mu-ing the rich glow of a golden sunset-sky. 
 
 " It is a beautiful prelude to the Lord's day," 
 said Mr3. Brandon. "Sunday was originally 
 married after that glorious luminary, but it should 
 
SISTERLY AFFECTION. 23 
 
 remind us now of the Sun of Righteousness, who 
 has risen with healing in his beams." 
 
 The labors of the week were past. In the 
 soothing calmness of the quiet evening, the wid- 
 ow's heart expanded with gratitude to her Heav- 
 enly Father. She remembered that there was to 
 be a contribution at church the next day, for a 
 benevolent object in which she was deeply inter- 
 ested. 
 
 " Fanny, dear," she said, " I must borrow your 
 three-dollar note for the contribution-box to-mor- 
 row. I have no smaller sum by me than ten, 
 and I cannot afford to give so much. In the 
 course of the week I will pay you my debt, for 
 I have not forgotten that I am to restore your 
 pretty pocket-piece." 
 
 Fanny blushed, hesitated, and trembled. 
 
 "What ails you, sister ?" said Susan, "you 
 were willing enough to give Joseph the money , 
 why are you unwilling to lend it to mother." 
 
 " Well, my dear child," said her kind mother, 
 "I will not take your last dollar; perhaps it is 
 not right to borrow it even for a benevolent pur- 
 pose." 
 
 "O mother! dear mother," cried Fanny, 
 throwing her arms around her mother's neck, 
 
24 SISTERLY AFFECTION. 
 
 "I have not the money to lend you, but don't 
 ask me what I have done with it, for I must not 
 tell you." 
 
 "Perhaps Joseph could tell me," said Mrs. 
 Brandon, sorrowfully, for the truth flashed across 
 her mind. 
 
 " He could, mother, he could," sobbed Fanny 
 
 " Just like him, just like him," exclaimed Su- 
 san. 
 
 That night, when Mrs. Brandon, as usual, 
 prayed for the absent one, it was with a mourn- 
 Ail, trembling voice, and many, many tears. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A RETURN. 
 
 JOSEPH continued at school from month to 
 month, and when his vacations came he made 
 engagements to go home with some of his school- 
 fellows, till nearly two years had glided away, and 
 in all that time he had not once seen his mother 
 or his sisters. 
 
 During this time he had made large demands 
 upon his mother for money. He had got into 
 many disgraceful scrapes, which he was careftu 
 should not reach his mother's ears, who continued 
 her kindness and her good advice. The former 
 he received when it came in a substantial form, 
 the latter he neither valued nor heeded. 
 
 Yet the kind family at home had practised 
 constant self-denial ; they seemed to have con* 
 centrated every effort into that one, to educate 
 Joseph. 
 
26 A RETURN. 
 
 It was a cool evening in autumn. The hearth 
 in Mrs. Brandon's little parlour was swept with the 
 most scrupulous neatness. A bright fire glowed 
 in the chimney. By it sat Fanny, at a little table 
 covered with worsteds and patterns, and a piece 
 of embroidery in her hand. She was now thirteen, 
 and tall of her age, a lovely blue-eyed girl, with 
 a modest, sweet expression, and gentle, graceful 
 manners. The door suddenly opened and a young 
 man entered. He was whistling a lively opera 
 air, but stopped at the sight of the lovely Fanny. 
 She had never before seen so fashionably-dressed 
 or so gay a gentleman ; startled and blushing, she 
 arose, and without waiting for him to inquire, 
 said, u My mother and sister have gone out for a 
 short walk ; they will soon return." 
 
 Joe, for it was he, burst into a loud laugh, and 
 exclaimed, " Who would thought you would not 
 .have known me, and that I should not have known 
 little Tow-head ?" 
 
 " Brother, dear brother," said Fanny springing 
 into his arms. 
 
 Joe kissed his sweet young sister, and then, re- 
 leasing himself from her arms, said, " Where 's 
 mother and Pug ? " 
 
 "Joseph, do not call us by those old, ugly 
 
A RETURN. 27 
 
 names; mother and Susan will soon be home. 
 We did not expect you." 
 
 " No ; of course you did not. I did not expect 
 to come so soon myself. The old rum 'un must 
 explain." 
 
 " And who is he ? " said Fanny, surprised 
 
 " Old Plym, alias Dr. Plympton, the master of 
 the school." 
 
 Mrs. Brandon and Susan now returned, and 
 cordially greeted the unexpected visiter. The 
 mother carefully scrutinized the countenance of 
 her only hoy. Alas ! the expression was not im- 
 proved. It was more proud, bold, and bad, than 
 ever. Her heart sank within her, but she made 
 no inquiries that night. She hastened to get tea, 
 and called Susan to her assistance. 
 
 " I must put the tea-kettle on in the parlour to- 
 night," said Mrs. Brandon, as cheerfully as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 " But why do you put it on yourself mother,' 
 said Joseph ; " where are your servants ? " 
 
 " We are our own servants, Joseph ; it is long 
 since we have had any other," calmly replied his 
 mother. 
 
 " Is it possible ? I cannot bear to see you em- 
 ployed in such men'mi offices. I shall insist that 
 you have at least one servant." 
 
28 A RETURN. 
 
 Mrs. Brandon sighed, but did not say how, for 
 her son's sake, she had thus taken up employ- 
 ments to which she had never before been accus- 
 tomed. 
 
 Susan, who had not as much delicacy as her 
 mother and sister, said, " It is of no consequence 
 whether we are ladies or not, so long as you are 
 such an exquisite gentleman." 
 
 " Well, Pug, you- are just the same as you used 
 to was ; your nose has even a more celestial ten- 
 dency than ever," said Joe, with a mocking laugh. 
 
 " Stay, my children, do not reproach each other. 
 It is time for our evening prayers." 
 
 And she brought out the great family Bible. 
 Fanny read the evening lesson, and then they all 
 knelt, while the widow prayed fervently to the 
 widow's God and Judge. 
 
CHAPTER 
 
 JOSEPH AT HOME. 
 
 THE next morning Mrs. Brandon received a 
 
 letter from Dr. Plympton, the Principal of 
 
 Seminary. Its contents were far from pleasing. 
 
 To MRS. BRANDON. 
 
 My dear Madam: I regret exceedingly the 
 circumstances that render it necessary for me to 
 say, that I can no longer consider your son Joseph 
 a member of my institution. On your account I 
 have borne with much provocation from him, but 
 it would be injustice to other parents to retain 
 among their sons one whose example is so cor- 
 rupting. 
 
 Joseph, I am sorry to say, is idle, extravagant, 
 and viciously inclined. He has borrowed money 
 from every boy in the school. He has even art- 
 
30 JOSEPH AT HOME. 
 
 fully wheedled out of the smaller boys the six- 
 pences given them for spending money. I can 
 not say that he is absolutely dishonest, that is, 
 I do not know that he would actually steal, but 
 his meanness amounts to the same thing, he bor- 
 rows without expecting to pay. Debts, to a con- 
 siderable amount, he nas contracted in the village, 
 which I have no doubt you will settle as soon as 
 possible. For my own payment I can wait your 
 convenience. 
 
 Joseph will doubtless tell you that he has done 
 nothing unworthy of a gentleman, for I under- 
 stand that is his chief aim ; he prides himself 
 upon being a gentleman. 
 
 I must advise you, madam, not to send your son 
 to college. I understand he expected to enter 
 the Sophomore Class. It would be useless for 
 him to make the attempt. 
 
 With great respect, dear Madam, yours, &c. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the sorrow 
 that settled deep into the heart of that widowed 
 mother, the grief and mortification of those lov- 
 ing sisters. 
 
 Mrs. Brandon was unable to leave her room 
 during the day. Susan and Fanny were obliged 
 to attend to all the household affairs. 
 
JOSEPH AT HOME. 31 
 
 " Pug, it is a shame for you to work so hard," 
 said Joe, picking his teeth after a late breakfast, 
 and throwing himself back in his chair with the 
 air of a prince ; " you will make your hands as 
 tough as leather." 
 
 " I do not work half as hard as our dear mother 
 does," was the reply. 
 
 " Her hands are old and tough already, it wont 
 vulgarize her as it will you and Fanny. Why 
 does she not have help ? " 
 
 " Because Mr. Joseph Brandon must be liber- 
 ally educated," replied Susan with some bitter- 
 ness. " She has toiled day and night for you, and 
 what is her reward ? She will be obliged to sell 
 this, our dear home, to pay your debts, cruel 
 boy that you are." 
 
 " Go it, Xantippe," said Joe, " your tongue is a 
 glib one ; mother need not pay the few hundreds 
 that I owe, I will pay them myself one of these 
 days. By the way Pug, how do you like this 
 cashmere vest ? It is the very pattern that Dick- 
 ens wore in this country, and he wore it because 
 it was a favorite with D'Orsay." 
 
 ' And who is he ? " 
 
 " You never heard of the famous Count D'Or- 
 say, the immortal D'Orsay." 
 
32 JOSEPH AT HOME. 
 
 " Never. Was he one of Napoleon's gener- 
 als ? " asked Susan. 
 
 "That is a good one! No, indeed! ne is 
 Commander-in-chief of the world of fashion* 
 have you never heard of the D'Orsay hat, the 
 D'Orsay tie, and a million of other things invent- 
 ed by him ? you really are vulgariously igno- 
 rant." 
 
 " Is it possible that any man can have so poor, 
 so mean an ambition, as to wish to be distinguish- 
 ed in this way ? " asked Susan. 
 
 " It is a glorious distinction ! I had rather be a 
 leader in the empire of fashion than to be auto- 
 crat of the Russias." 
 
 " Or to be a Howard, or a Franklin, a Wilber- 
 force, or a Washington. O Joseph, I had 
 hoped that if you were not a distinguished man 
 you would at least have become a respectable 
 one," said Susan with a sigh. 
 
 " Nonsense : there is nothing I hate like a re- 
 spectable man ; it is nothing but sleek, clear vul- 
 garity." 
 
 " I am sorry to see my only brother such a 
 simpleton. Do you expect to gain your living 
 by letting yourself out in place of a wax-figure at 
 a barber's or a tailor's. As far as I can see, it 
 
JOSFPH AT HOME. 33 
 
 is all you are fit for. How much more respect- 
 able you would be as a barber or a tailor." 
 
 " Me ! What, cut me down to a ninth of a man ! 
 You are actually murderous." 
 
 " It would be an immense elevation for you, 
 Joe, for now you are absolutely good for nothing, 
 not the ninety-ninth part of a man, for, 
 
 ** Worth makes the man, the want of it the fellow." 
 
 " Pug, I am shocked at your want of refine- 
 ment. That line and its fellow have been the 
 rounds of the copy-books these forty years. It 
 has long been excluded from genteel society." 
 
 " In fact, I fear it has. It is not the less true 
 for all that." 
 
 " I do n't know what mother thinks of herself 
 to let two great girls grow up in entire ignorance 
 of every thing that is genteel and fashionable. I 
 must go out among these barbarians in your petiy 
 village, and astonish the natives." 
 
 So saying, Joe went to the glass, admired his 
 gay vest, put his hat carefully upon his head, that 
 he might not disarrange his beautiful hair. His 
 cane, too, he took that ; and then he looked at him 
 self again, smoothed down the brilliant cashmere, 
 drew on his delicate gloves, admired the set of 
 
34 JOSEPH AT HOME. 
 
 his coat, it was a perfect fit, and he did look 
 like a gentleman in his own estimation, but in his 
 heart of hearts he knew that he was a mean fel- 
 low." 
 
 " Astonish the natives ! " said Sue, as her hope- 
 ful brother closed the front door. " Astonish the 
 natives ! yes, indeed, they will be astonished that 
 Joe Brandon, after all the money his poor mother 
 has spent upon him, has come back just such a 
 proud simpleton as he went away." 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 JL SUDDEN RESOLUTION. 
 
 " WHAT are you going to do, Joseph, now you 
 have been compelled to give up the idea of a 
 college education," inquired Mrs. Brandon, after 
 Joseph had been home some weeks. These weeks 
 he had employed in driving about the country, 
 lounging at the tavern, smoking, wine-drinking, 
 and other, like gentlemanly amusements, keep- 
 ing his mother and sisters in a state of constant 
 anxiety and alarm. 
 
 " I do n't know yet what profession I shall 
 follow," said Joe ; u give me time to think, will 
 you. I am sure, you and the girls need not 
 grudge me the little I eat and drink under youi 
 roof." 
 
 This to a mother who had been so self-sacrific- 
 ing ! She replied with a mournful voice, 
 
36 A SUDDKN RESOLUTION. 
 
 " I have done ir justice to the girls already. 
 We are so much reduced by your extravagance 
 that we shall soon be compelled to labor for our 
 own support." 
 
 " Well, it is no more than I shall have to do 
 myself," was the unfeeling reply. 
 
 Week after week passed away, and still Joe 
 was lounging about home, teasing his sisters and 
 adding to the expenses of his mother. 
 
 Susan posses^ -d much energy of character, and 
 a freedom in speaking the plain truth, which Joe 
 did not relish at all. If there was any thing on 
 earth that he loved, besides his own dear self, it 
 was his sister Fanny. She was so gentle and 
 kind that she never spoke harshly or severely to 
 any one. Yet she did not escape from the per- 
 secutions of her mischievous brother. She often 
 wept under the inflictions that he imposed upon 
 her, and pleaded so earnestly to escape from him 
 that any one with the least generosity would have 
 desisted. Her health actually suffered in conse- 
 quence of his perpetual annoyances. 
 
 Mrs. Brandon at length insisted that Joe should 
 endeavour to find some employment in Boston. 
 With much difficulty she provided him with 
 money to bear his expenses to the city, and to 
 
JOSEPH AT HOME. 37 
 
 support him for a week or two till he could look 
 for some employment. 
 
 He left home with but little feeling, although 
 many and bitter tears were shed by his affection- 
 ate family. After strutting about the streets of 
 Boston for a couple of weeks, until his money 
 was spent, he wrote the following brief epistle : 
 
 DEAR MOTHER : I am going to sea. Give my 
 love to the girls. It will be long before you are 
 troubled again by your son, JOSEPH. 
 
 Not a word of the ship in which he was to em- 
 bark ! No mention of the place to which he was 
 going ! Poor Mrs. Brandon ! Susan and Fanny 
 did all they could to comfort her, although they 
 were sad enough themselves. 
 
 "I am sure he has improved, mother," said 
 Fanny, " he does not call us Pug and Tow any 
 more, and really sends his love to us. Who knows 
 but this is the very best thing that could happen 
 to him." 
 
 " I hope, indeed, that it may be," said the dis- 
 consolate mother. 
 
CHAPTER V1T. 
 
 THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 
 
 THE good ship Sally Ann, in which Joe em. 
 barked, sailed from Boston, bound for Smyrna 
 on the 15th of December. He went out before 
 the mast, a common sailor. 
 
 The day of sailing was bright and pleasant for 
 a winter's day, and the wind was fair. But in 
 twenty-four hours the wind changed and blew a 
 gale from the southeast. 
 
 Joe had been for the last ten hours deadly sea- 
 sick. He begged they would throw him over- 
 board, for he could not live any longer. But 
 when the storm arose, fear and excitement 
 brought him upon his legs again. 
 
 4; All hands upon deck ! " was the cry. The 
 ship had carried full sail while she was " going 
 large," even her " flying kites," as the sky-sails 
 
THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 3^ 
 
 are called, flaunted jauntily in the fair breeze. 
 The sailors were ordered to take in the sails. 
 Much confusion ensued, for there were several 
 raw hands on board beside Joe Brandon. He 
 was sent up aloft, but so terrified was he that he 
 had not taken three steps upward before he came 
 down upon the deck, flat upon his back. 
 
 The crew at length succeeded in taking in all 
 the sails ; though several had been torn and the 
 rigging much injured. The wind continued to 
 blow, and the snow fell thick and fast. The ship 
 was driven back upon the coast. The cold was 
 so intense that the hands of the poor sailors 
 almost froze to the rigging. 
 
 Joe, after his fall, had skulked away to his 
 hammock, and there continued half dead with 
 fear, till the storm was over. It lasted thirty-six 
 hours. The seasickness again came on, and in 
 his agony, Joe, tossing from side to side, would 
 exclaim, " My mother, O my poor mother ! How 
 would she feel to see me now ! " 
 
 An old sailor came, after the storm to the ham- 
 mock, and, taking hold of Joe with a rough gripe, 
 said, " Come, land-lubber, try to find your legs 
 ihere 's work enough on deck." 
 
 u I am too sick to work," said Joe, piteously. 
 
40 THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 
 
 " Can't have any shamming here ; you have 
 lain there long enough while all hands were hard 
 at it ; come along, I say ; " and Joe, more dead 
 than alive, crawled upon deck. 
 
 He was a pitiful looking object. His long hair 
 was matted into a tangled mass, and his face, pale 
 as ashes, was streaked with tar. Some of his 
 messmates burst into a real horse-laugh on seeing 
 him, and pointed to his shirt a fine linen ruffled 
 shirt ! Joe was very sensitive to ridicule, and, as 
 he sank upon a coil of ropes, he said, " It was 
 very foolish for a gentleman, like me, to come to 
 sea." 
 
 " A green hand ! " exclaimed Tom Simpson. 
 " We '11 teach him how to behave himself like a 
 gentleman." 
 
 From this time all manner of practical jokes 
 were played off upon poor Joe. They greased 
 the deck, when it was his watch, to make him fall. 
 They tarred his hammock, till his hair stuck so 
 fast that he was obliged to saw himself loose from 
 it with his jack-knife. In short, they seemed de- 
 termined to show him that a ship was no place for 
 gentlemen 
 
 . They had now been out a fortnight. Joe was, 
 at last, too ill and weak to leave his hammock. 
 
THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 41 
 
 The only sailor who showed him any compassion 
 was a boy, two years younger than himself, named 
 Frank Wood. 
 
 "Come," said Frank, "cheer up. I have 
 brought some nice gruel, that I coaxed the cook 
 to let me make for you ; I know it will do you 
 good." 
 
 The voice of kindness was soothing and sweet. 
 Joe gladly took the gruel, and it proved very ser- 
 viceable. His new friend was a favorite with all 
 on board. 
 
 On Sunday, it was pleasant to see the young 
 sailor dressed in his wide trowsers, clean calico 
 shirt, and bright tarpaulin, with its " fathom of 
 black ribbon." No boy on land could have 
 looked more beautifully neat. This was his 
 third voyage. It was a perfect wonder to Joe 
 how Frank could be such a favorite on board ; 
 even the rough, weather-beaten face of the cap- 
 tain relaxed into a smile as Frank politely touched 
 his tarpaulin in passing him. 
 
 When Joe was able again to be on deck, 
 Frank endeavoured to aid him, in every possible 
 way, to acquire a knowledge of his duty as 
 a sailor. 
 
 Ono night, as they were together upon deck, 
 
42 THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 
 
 vvhiling away their watch by telling yarns, Joe 
 asked Frank how he happened to be a sailor. 
 
 " It is not much of a story," replied Frank 
 Wood, " but if you want to hear it, you shall 
 have it." 
 
 The moon shed its pure and tender light upon 
 the wide waters ; the ship, with a fair light breeze, 
 was gliding onward, and in the calmness cf that 
 still and lovely night, Frank Wood told his simple 
 tale. 
 
 " My father is a physician in New York, and 
 I am his only son. My poor mother died some 
 years since, when I was twelve years old. But 
 I shall never forget her, nor her instructions. 
 She was beautiful ; and, O, so good ! I really 
 believe she was too good for this earth, and so 
 God took her to Heaven. Do you know, Joseph," 
 continued Frank, lowering his voice almost to a 
 whisper, " that I sometimes think my mother 
 still watches over me. I have heard there were 
 such things as guardian angels, and why should 
 not rny own mother be mine ? When those 
 bright stars guide our path over the sea, I look 
 up to them and think she may be there. Look 
 at Lyrn. at this moment; that was her favorite, 
 chosen star. I never look at it without thinking 
 of her." 
 
THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 43 
 
 There was a solemn pause of some moments, 
 and then Frank continued : " My father is en- 
 gaged in a very extensive practice, and, after my 
 mother's death, I was sent to school. Before 
 that, as I was her only child, she had educated 
 me at home. I cannot tell you about her death, 
 it is too sad; nor how miserable I was after- 
 wards. 
 
 " At school I was very unhappy. I had never 
 been accustomed to mingle with all sorts of boys, 
 and they seemed to me very rude and unfeeling. 
 Month after month I was very, very homesick ; 
 yet I studied hard, for my father is ambitious, and 
 I wished to please him. With hard study, hard 
 fare, and harder usage, at length I grew pale and 
 weakly. I did not complain to my father, but 
 when I went home, at the end of two years, he 
 was astonished to find me looking so miserably. 
 He took me from school, and I remained at home 
 for a half year, growing worse and worse. At 
 length my father said I must try going to sea ; and 
 he placed me under the care of a good captain, 
 where I should not be made to work too hard, 
 and where I would be sure of kind treatment. 
 
 " I had tough times, that first voyage ; seasick, 
 homesick, and disturbed by the coarseness of my 
 messmates ; but I recovered my health. 
 
44 THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 
 
 " I attempted to study after my return home 
 and again grew ill. I have recovered, by going 
 another voyage, and this is my third. You have 
 suffered, I think, still more than I did, Joseph, but 
 I hope the worst is over now. You must be very 
 civil to the sailors, for they have got a notion that 
 you are proud and dandyish ; and they like to 
 torment you." 
 
 " Well, I always meant to be a gentleman, and 
 it is plaguy hard that I can be nothing but a 
 common sailor," said Joe. 
 
 " Why cannot you be both ?" inquired Frank. 
 
 " Both ! that would be impossible." 
 
 *' Certainly not ; my dear mother always told 
 me that the feelings of a gentleman might often 
 exist where the manners were not polished. I 
 have found several sailors who had right noble, 
 honorable feelings, who, with education would 
 have been as perfect gentlemen as my own father 
 is.' 
 
 " Then your father is rich," said Joe. 
 
 " I believe he is," replied Frank, smiling. 
 u But that, you know, does not make him a gen- 
 tleman. In the sick-room .of his poorest patient 
 he is just as polite as if he were with the most 
 distinguished man in the country. He gave me 
 
THE GENTLEMAN SAILOR. 45 
 
 Borne rules for politeness, that I keep to look o\er 
 now and then. They are in my chest, alongside 
 of the Bible that my mother gave me ; I will 
 read them to you some time. They were written 
 for a boy only eleven years old, and of course 
 are very plain and simple." 
 
 It was time to change the watch, and the boys 
 gladly went to their hammocks. Frank said, as 
 they parted, " You must tell me your story, Jo- 
 seph, the next time we have an opportunity. 1 
 am sure I shall dream of my mother to-night." 
 
 Though weary and sleepy, Joe could not help 
 thinking how little he had prized his mother's 
 advice, and how unkind he had been to his sisters. 
 He dreamed of seeing Fanny, his sweet sister 
 Fanny, suffering and dying, and awoke in agony. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 
 
 THE first time that Joseph had an opportunity, 
 hs told Frank Wood his story ; describing his 
 mother and sisters ; and when he spoke of Fanny, 
 it was with a tear in each eye. 
 
 " I am glad you have so good a mother, and 
 such sweet sisters," said Frank Wood ; " I hope I 
 shall one day be acquainted with them." 
 
 "I do n't care much about Sue, but Fanny 
 was always so kind, so very kind. I am afraid I 
 was so troublesome to her that she thinks that I 
 do not care any thing about her. I wish I could 
 show you one of my mother's letters ; she writes 
 beautiful letters, but I did not pay much attention 
 to them formerly. You have promised to read 
 me those rules which your father wrote for you. 
 Though I suppose rules for politeness can do us 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 47 
 
 irery little good now, I should like to hear 
 them." 
 
 " That you shall," said Frank ; and, going to 
 his chest, he brought out a little packet, from 
 which he took a neatly folded paper and read the 
 following : 
 
 FOR MY DEAR FRANK. 
 
 You will hear much said, my boy, about polite- 
 ness, the politeness of a true gentleman ; and 
 you will wish, I hope, to be polite. In order to 
 be so, you must, 
 
 1. Be quick to discover what your place is; 
 
 2. What is due to every person ; 
 
 3. How you can render every one their due, 
 most agreeably ; 
 
 4. How you can make yourself most accepta- 
 able in person, dress, manners, and conversation. 
 
 These plain rules I will render still more intel- 
 ligible. You would not think it right to place 
 yourself in your mother's favorite rocking-chair 
 every time she left it vacant ; you would not sit 
 in your father's seat at church ; you would not 
 take his place at the dinner-table, when he was 
 expected to be there. As you become oldei, and 
 go out among other persons, pay the same regard 
 
48 RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 
 
 to propriety. Never stand or sit in any body's 
 way, so that they will tread on your toes, or you 
 will tread on theirs. This rule, however, might 
 perhaps be included in the next. Yield to every 
 person their due. This is exactly the golden 
 rule ; "Do unto others what you would that 
 they should do unto you." 
 
 A nice and quick perception of what is really 
 due to others can alone render you ever ready 
 to manifest politeness. You can be as polite to a 
 boot-black as to the president of the United 
 States. That is, you can conduct yourself to- 
 wards him in such a way as to make him respect 
 you, and feel satisfied that you do not despise 
 him. In doing this you need not put on a con- 
 descending manner ; just render to him what is 
 really his due as a man. 
 
 On the other hand, is the man one of high sta- 
 tion, no cringing civility should be offered to 
 him. Render him the respect and attention that 
 he has a right to demand, and maintain your own 
 self-respect. 
 
 In order to render strict justice to every one, 
 we must be as careful with regard to their feel- 
 ings as to their more substantial rights. A cer- 
 tain delicacy of sentiment, a quick sympathy 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 48 
 
 with others, will enable you to do this ; without 
 it, you may know all the rules of external polite- 
 ness and yet never be a gentleman. 
 
 This delicacy of sentiment will enable you to 
 render to others their due, agreeably and grace 
 fully. 
 
 A boy may be a well-meaning boy, and yet be 
 awkward and uncivil, because he does not per- 
 ceive what others expect from him, and what they 
 have a right to expect. 
 
 You, my dear Frank, must know what is requir- 
 ed from you, as a boy, to your elders and superi- 
 ors, to your equals and inferiors ; and, in practis- 
 ing it, form early habits of politeness, that will 
 become so habitual that you can be easy and 
 graceful in your intercourse with your fellow- 
 beings. 
 
 A more refined and delicate politeness must 
 be yielded from our sex to the female sex than 
 we render to our own. They are weak, and 
 claim our protection. They are subordinate, arid 
 therefore it would be mean to make them more 
 sensible of it than is needful. All these things 
 you will understand in time. 
 
 How can you make yourself most acceptable 
 in your person ? 
 
50 RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 
 
 You never heard of a dirty gentleman* Frank ; 
 it is a contradiction in terms. 
 
 Use plenty of cold water. 
 
 Brush your teeth two or three times a day. 
 You will want them for an ornament to your 
 mouth, as well as a convenience. A fine set of 
 teeth may give tenfold value to the pleasantest 
 smile. Think, too, how much suffering you may 
 prevent by care in preserving your teeth. There 
 is really no small thing that so marks a well-bred 
 boy as this scrupulous care of the teeth. 
 
 Keep your hair neatly combed and brushed ; 
 and arranged after the fashion, without following 
 it too far. That is, if it is the fashion to wear it 
 long, do not wear it extravagantly long ; if short, 
 do not have it shaven close to your head. Fol- 
 low fashion moderately, in order to follow it 
 gracefully. 
 
 " Scarlet finger, and long jetty nail," as Pope 
 says, are most disgusting. Be careful, then, not 
 to ornament the ends of your fingers with a black 
 crescent. Do not put your fingers in your nose, 
 mouth, or ears ; or pick your teeth in company. 
 
 So much has been said of that filthy practice 
 of spitting, that I cannot think you will ever fall 
 into it. Chewing and smoking tobacco render 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 51 
 
 spitting indispensable. I entreat you to a\oid 
 both of those unwholesome and disagreeable 
 habits. 
 
 I wish to have you neat and tasteful in your 
 dress, without extravagance. Keep your clothes 
 well brushed, and hang them up carefully when 
 they are taken off. 
 
 Never, my son, never rely upon dress to make 
 you a gentleman. It is as flimsy a disguise as 
 the lion's skin was to the ass. When he brayed, 
 his borrowed attire only made him more con- 
 spicuously ridiculous. 
 
 In your conversation be scrupulously polite. 
 Address persons by their proper titles, and use 
 those expressions of civility that custom renders 
 necessary. " If you please," " Thank you," 
 " Beg pardon," &c., &c., even to those hi the 
 humblest station. 
 
 Speak out your words plainly and distinctly, 
 and in a moderate tone of voice. What is called 
 a good enunciation is a distinctive mark of good 
 breeding. 
 
 I cannot think it possible that my son should 
 ever commit such a sin against the laws of God 
 as to use profane language. Infinitely worse is 
 this than a breach of politeness. Yet it is not 
 
52 RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 
 
 only a violation of God's law, but it is a mean, 
 vulgar habit ; so low, that I trust you will never 
 be tempted to fall into it. 
 
 How horrible is the sound of oaths from youth- 
 ful lips. My heart is saddened by the thought 
 that they are often heard in our streets, from 
 mere children. 
 
 Obscene language ; low, vulgar conversation ; 
 surely, my son, you can never dishonor your 
 father and mother by allowing any such language 
 to pass your lips. Never listen to it from others. 
 
 A tattling, gossipping, tale-telling disposition, 
 avoid. Every honorable mind despises traitors, 
 spies, and tale-bearers. 
 
 You must not alone be just to others, my son , 
 in order to be polite, you must be generous, noble, 
 chivalrous. 
 
 Above all, to be a Christian gentleman, the 
 character which I most desire for you, it is ne- 
 cessary to study faithfully that most perfect and 
 beautiful code of politeness, given by St. Paul, in 
 the thirteenth chapter of the First Epistle to tha 
 Corinthians. 
 
 In short, my dear son, my desires and prayers 
 for you constantly are, that you may be, 
 
 Pure in body and mind ; . 
 
RECOLLECTIONS OF HOME. 53 
 
 Pure in manners and morals ; and, 
 Pure in heart. 
 
 That thus you may perform your duties faith* 
 fully and acceptably to God and to man. 
 
 Frank carefully folded the precious paper, and 
 said, " Well, Joseph, do you not think we may 
 be polite, even if we are sailors ? " 
 
 " Not very elegantly so," replied his compan- 
 ion. 
 
 "Yet I 'think we may be as gentleman-like 
 m our feelings here as anywhere else," said Frank 
 and as he said so he received an order from the 
 captain to come into the cabin. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 NEW ACQUAINTANCES 
 
 ON entering the cabin, Frank was surprised al 
 its magnificence. It was beautifully finished 
 with mahogany and rosewood. A large mirror 
 adorned one end of it, and curtains of rich crim- 
 son damask were hung there in graceful festoons. 
 
 But Frank was still more surprised at its in- 
 mates. A delicate-looking middle-aged lady was 
 reclining upon a couch, and by her side sat a young 
 girl, of about fourteen, with dark hair, dark eyes, 
 and a complexion pale as marble. 
 
 The captain seemed quite amused at the undis- 
 guised astonishment of Frank, as he stood, tarpau- 
 lin in hand, bowing with the most profound respect 
 to the ladies. 
 
 " You did not know, boy, that there weie pas- 
 sengers on board," said the captain. 
 
NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 55 
 
 " I heard, soon after we sailed, that there were 
 cabin passengers, but had forgotten it, and I did 
 not know that they were ladies." 
 
 " They are ladies in every thing but one im- 
 portant consideration, that is, they can't speak 
 English. Madame La Tourette and her daugh- 
 ter were placed under my care by a French mer- 
 chant in Boston, to be landed at Marseilles. I do 
 not know their history. The poor things have 
 been very seasick and lonely. I took it into my 
 head that you, being brought up a gentleman and 
 a scholar, might find some way to amuse their. 
 They have looked through the cabin door, though 
 they have not been on deck, and have asked a 
 great many questions about you." 
 
 Frank was sorely puzzled to know what he 
 should do for the amusement of the invalid lady 
 and her daughter, who were looking at him with 
 much curiosity and interest, as he stood there in 
 his sailor's dress. 
 
 " They seemed to see at once that there was 
 something peculiar in you, and I have tried to 
 make them understand that you are a young gen- 
 tleman," continued the captain, " but I do not 
 know whether I have made it out or not : you 
 must go and shake hands with them." 
 
56 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 Frank was ready to laugh at this proposal ; but 
 the captain immediately " suited the action to the 
 word " by taking Frank's hand and placing it in 
 one of the lady's, and then in the girl's hand. 
 
 They smiled at this peculiar introduction, and 
 asked Frank if he spoke French. He had learn- 
 ed to speak it with his mother, and at school ; but 
 felt, at first, some diffidence about replying in that 
 language. He made the effort, however, and it 
 seemed to give great pleasure ; tj^ey immediately 
 commenced talking with so much volubility that 
 Frank could hardly distinguish a word. 
 
 The captain was charmed. He slapped Frank 
 on the shoulders, clapped his hands, and exclaim- 
 ed, " There, I told them there was a young gentle- 
 man on board who could parley-vous with them. 
 Poor creatures, they are so lonesome that I have 
 determined to have you come and dine with them 
 every day ; but, as the sailors might not think it 
 just the thing if you at the same time messed 
 with them, you must be my clerk, and we will 
 arrange it so that the other hands can manage 
 without you." 
 
 " But I have no suitable clothes," said Frank, 
 " I have nothing but a sailor's dress of the most 
 common kind : how should I look, sitting down 
 to dine with ladies, as you now see me ! " 
 
NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 57 
 
 " But, my boy, you are always neat and clean 
 I have wondered a thousand times how you kept 
 yourself so. No excuses. I dare say Madame, 
 and the pretty little dem'selle, won't need any. 
 I '11 tell them how it is." 
 
 So saying, the captain pointed at Frank's jack- 
 et, wide trowsers, and red flannel shirt, and shook 
 his head, and shouted, " Can't help it, no land 
 gear"; as if the ladies were deaf; making, at 
 the same time, divers grimaces and shrugs, to aid 
 himself to be understood. 
 
 " There, now, they understand that you can't 
 dress up smart to please them, and won't minct 
 your sea-rig." 
 
 Frank was obliged to obey the captain's order y 
 and remove his quarters. 
 
 The vessel was to touch at Marseilles to land 
 the passengers ; and from this time to their ar- 
 rival Frank devoted himself to the ladies, and to 
 the captain, as his clerk. 
 
 Joseph Brandon was not at all pleased at the- 
 change which had taken place relative to Frank.. 
 He tried to make the other sailors complain of 
 it ; but they, to a man, rejoiced in it ; saying 
 that it was not suitable that such a. delicate lad 
 should be with them and have to put up with 
 
58 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 their rough ways. They felt, always, that he was 
 a gentleman, although he refused no part of his 
 sailor's duty. 
 
 Madame La Tourette and Louise were exceed- 
 ingly amused the first time Frank came to dine 
 with them. His blue jacket and trowsers, his 
 calico shirt, and morocco pumps, were all in the 
 neatest order. Yet Madame could not help saying 
 to herself, " Quel drole de petit matelot ! " " What 
 a funny little sailor ! " and Louise, in spite of her 
 good-breeding, was obliged to hold her handker- 
 chief before her mouth, to conceal a smile. 
 
 The captain thought his plan had succeeded 
 marvellously, for in a few days his passengers ap- 
 peared upon deck. 
 
 Joe had been employed in splicing and tarring 
 ropes ; and, when Frank appeared upon deck in 
 attendance upon Madame La Tourette and Louise, 
 the poor fellow was sadly mortified at his appear- 
 ance. He would not look towards Frank to give 
 him an opportunity to speak to him, but turned 
 away with a sulky expression. 
 
 Frank was determined that he should not 
 ^escape him ; and, going up to him, said, kindly, 
 ** Joseph, do not think that new friends make me 
 forget old ones. I should really like to intro- 
 
NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 59 
 
 duce you to the agreeable acquaintances which 
 the captain has, in a manner, forced me to make." 
 
 " A pretty fellow should I be," replied Joe, 
 u to be introduced to ladies ; they never would 
 think it possible that I had been brought up gen- 
 teelly. See, they are looking at you now, and 
 wondering how you can speak to such a dirty fel- 
 low as I am. I am so much ashamed to be seen 
 working and looking so, that I am just ready to 
 jump into the sea." 
 
 " That would be a sure way to wash away the 
 dirt," said Frank. " But Madame calls me." 
 
 So saying, Frank went to assist the lady in 
 going below. From the time that he was so sin- 
 gularly introduced, Frank exerted himself in va- 
 rious ways to relieve the tedium of the voyage. 
 They came in sight of Gibraltar on the twenty- 
 eighth day out ; and, passing through the Straits, 
 made for Marseilles. 
 
 The Sally Ann was to remain two or three 
 days at Marseilles, and as she sailed from Boston 
 in the winter, and there had been no sickness on 
 board, she would not be obliged to perform a 
 long quarantine. 
 
 Madame La Tourette was so grateful to her 
 young friend, Frank, that she invited him to re- 
 
60 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 main at her house during his stay at Marseilles. 
 She wished to show him every thing worth seeing 
 in her native city. 
 
 Louise was now looking in better health ; the 
 early part of the voyage both mother and daugh- 
 ter had suffered exceedingly from seasickness. 
 I Louise was delighted at the thought of reaching 
 home, her dear Marseilles, from which she 
 had been absent for two years. Madame La 
 Tourette was a widow, and Louise was her only 
 daughter. She had been passing a couple of 
 years with a brother in Canada, and, after visit- 
 ing the United States, sailed from Boston, as has 
 been said, in the Sally Ann. 
 
 The captain stood on the deck with Madame 
 leaning on his arm ; Frank held a spy-glass for 
 Louise. " Je vois ma patrie, ma belle France," 
 exclaimed the young girl. " Oui ; c'est vrai, nous 
 verrons bientot, votre Marseilles," replied Frank : 
 and then he asked the captain how long it would 
 be before they should be able to see the city. 
 
 " In about three hours," was his reply. 
 
 So happy were they all at this news, that they 
 decided upon remaining upon deck till sundown. 
 
 And it was a glorious sunset. Far in the west 
 the clouds were piled in rich masses of purple 
 
NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 61 
 
 and gold, while lighter flakes floated above, daz- 
 zlingly white, or tinged with red. The sea reflect- 
 ed far and wide the brilliant sky. 
 
 " There, I see the rocks," said Madame La 
 Tourette ; " I know those rocks well ; often have 
 I climbed them in my youth to look out upon the 
 sea, and watch the distant vessels." 
 
 " And can we not land to-night ? " inquired 
 Louise, eagerly. 
 
 " Not to-night, but early in the morning," re- 
 plied Frank. 
 
 " O, I shall be so happy ! " exclaimed she ; 
 ct but then I shall soon have to part with you for 
 ever, Frank ; and that makes me sad, even in the 
 midst of my joy." 
 
 " My good friend, Frank," said Madame, as 
 they were about to separate for the night, " I owe 
 you a thousand thanks : is there any thing I can do 
 for you before we leave. Of course you are our 
 risiter while you stay at Marseilles." 
 
 "You owe me no thanks," said Frank, "and 
 yet I have one favor to ask ; it is that you will 
 include a friend of mine in your kind invitation. 
 Joseph Brandon has never been to sea before; 
 he has suffered much during the voyage, and I 
 think it would do him good to be with me " 
 
62 NEW ACQUAINTANCES. 
 
 " I should be most happy to have him accompa 
 ny us," said Madame, with great politeness. 
 
 " And will you ask the captain to give him 
 leave of absence ? " said Frank. 
 
 " As well as I can," replied Madame ; and, turn- 
 ing to the captain, she said, " Capitaine, vill you 
 let von friend of Meester Frank go chez moi 
 to mine house dat is vid him ? " 
 
 " Who is it, Frank ? " asked the captain. 
 
 " Joseph Brandon, Sir. I should like to have 
 him go ashore with me and remain the two days 
 that we are at Marseilles. Madame La Tourette 
 is so kind as to invite him to her house." 
 
 44 He is a lazy dog, that Joe Brandon ; he is n^t 
 fit to be a sailor, and I do not think he deserves 
 the favor you ask for him ; but since you ask it, 
 Frank, 1 grant it. 7) 
 
 " Tfyink you, Sir ; I hope he will do better 011 
 the voyage home ; he was entirely green, you 
 know, and has gone through a pretty good salt- 
 ing." 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 BEAU BRANDON ASHORE. 
 
 GREAT preparations were going on before a 
 small looking-glass, on board the Sally Ann, the 
 next morning. 
 
 Joe was delighted with the invitation of Mad- 
 ame La Tourette, and attributed it entirely to the 
 impression he had made by his gentleman-like 
 appearance, which, by the way, she had neve* 1 
 observed. 
 
 The self same splendid Dickens, D'Orsay cash- 
 mere vest was once more the object of his admi- 
 ration, as he surveyed himself with much com- 
 placency in the aforesaid bit .of a looking-glass. 
 But, like Sampson, he was shorn of his glory, 
 his long hair. The unfortunate tarring into the 
 hammock had robbed him of his locks, arid left 
 him looking as if it had been gnawed off by the 
 rats. 
 
64 BEAU BRAKDON ASHORE. 
 
 Joe was a tall, thin, awkward boy, with long 
 arms and large hands. His dress-coat was quite 
 too short-waisted for him, the buttons seemed 
 travelling up to the shoulders, and those large 
 hands hung out of the sleeves at a goodly dis- 
 tance from the cuffs. But the ruffled shirt, the 
 splendid vest, the gold chain, and large breast- 
 pin, they would atone for other deficiencies; at 
 least so thought Joe. 
 
 When he appeared upon deck, the sailors gave 
 three cheers, " Hurrah for Beau Brandon." 
 
 Frank appeared in his Sunday sailor dress. 
 Soon Madame and Louise were ready ; and were 
 handed ashore, and into the carriage, by Joe and 
 Frank. 
 
 The friends of Madame hastened to greet her 
 on her return, and were not a little surprised to 
 see her young companions. 
 
 A dinner-party was invited the next day to 
 meet them. 
 
 The habitual politeness of Frenchmen could 
 hardly keep them from laughing at seeing Frank 
 Wood, dressed like a common sailor, walking 
 up and down the splendid drawing-room, with 
 Louise La Tourette. But so completely was he 
 at his ease, and so graceful and polite withal 
 
BEAU BRANDON ASHORE. 
 
 that they soon changed their tone and admired 
 ihe fine young American. 
 
 Poor Joe could not speak a word of French 
 He sat in a corner, not knowing where to put his 
 feet or his hands, where to look, or what to do. 
 There could hardly have been a better specimen 
 of a raw Yankee, and so thought Johnny Cra- 
 peau.* 
 
 Poor Madame La Tourette did not know what 
 to do with him. She was glad when dinner was 
 announced, and she asked him to sit by her at 
 table. There his awkwardness and vulgarity 
 were still more apparent. He carried all his 
 food to his mouth with his knife ; he stuck out 
 his elbows like a grasshopper ; used his pocket- 
 handkerchief instead of a napkin, and ate so fast 
 as to alarm his lady hostess lest he should actu- 
 ally choke himself. 
 
 Frank, if he had had time to observe Joe, 
 would have been much mortified, but fortunately 
 he was engaged hi conversation with a distin- 
 guisned gentleman who was making inquiries 
 about the United States. In a prompt and clear 
 manner he gave the information that was desired 
 and surprised the gentleman as much by his 
 
 * The English nickname for a Frenchman. 
 
66 BEAU BRANDON ASHORE. 
 
 intelligence as he did the ladies by his easy po- 
 liteness. 
 
 Madame La Tourette and Louise were very 
 happy to see their young friend the object of such 
 general attention and admiration. Beau Brandon 
 was stung with jealousy and envy. 
 
 What could there be hi that sailor-boy so at- 
 tractive ? 
 
 He was a gentleman-like, well-bred boy ; and 
 if a gentleman at home, of course he was so 
 everywhere. 
 
 There are different customs and various usages 
 imong different nations ; quickness of perception 
 will enable a well-bred person to adopt at once 
 those customs which are new to him, without 
 awkwardness. He would use his fingers with 
 the Turks, chop-sticks with the Chinese, and sil 
 ver forks with the French, with equal grace and 
 propriety. He would know his place everywhere, 
 and maintain his self-respect. 
 
 Thus it was with Frank Wood, though only 
 a boy of sixteen, among entire strangers, in a 
 foreign land ; and, though in the dress of a com- 
 mon sailor, it was impossible not to perceive that 
 he had the manners and the sentiments of a gen- 
 tleman, and was therefore a fit associate for the 
 refined and the noble of every land. 
 

 BEAU BRANDON ASHORE. 6"7 
 
 Having no hereditary titles in the United 
 States, there can be no higher distinction than 
 that which belongs to moral worth, intellectual 
 superiority, and refined politeness. A repub- 
 lican gentleman, therefore, need acknowledge no 
 superior ; he is a companion for nobles and 
 kings, or, what is better, for the polite, the tal- 
 ented, the good. 
 
 Since such are an American's only claims to 
 distinction, it becomes the more important for him 
 to cultivate all those graces which elevate and 
 dignify humanity. No high ancestral claims can 
 he urge for his position in society. Wealth he 
 may possess, and there are those who will ac- 
 knowledge that claim ; but if the possessor have 
 not intelligence and taste to teach him how to 
 use his wealth, it will only make him a more con- 
 spicuous mark for ridicule. Those glorious in- 
 stitutions of New England, common schools, af- 
 ford to every boy the opportunity to acquire that 
 intelligence arid taste, and his associates there are 
 from every class of society. There is no insur- 
 mountable obstacle in any boy's way ; his posit .'on 
 in society must depend mainly upon himself. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE PARTING. 
 
 MADAME LA TOURETTE took great pleasure in 
 showing the young sailors every thing worthy of 
 notice in the Old Town and the New Town, into 
 which Marseilles is divided. 
 
 Her own elegant mansion was in the beautiful 
 street, Beauvau. From this they sallied forth to 
 see the Exchange, the fine old Cathedral, one 
 of the most ancient in France, the hospitals, and 
 the Museum. In all these objects, Frank Wood 
 took an intelligent interest, and was highly pleased 
 to be able to communicate so much to his father 
 that would be interesting to him. At the hospi- 
 tals, in particular, he rruidc so many judicious, 
 well-directed inquiries, as to astonish the physi- 
 cian in attendance, and give great pleasure to 
 Madame La Tourette. She was much amused 
 
THE PARTING. 69 
 
 when the physician said to her, aside, " A very 
 remarkable sailor-boy, Madame ; by his accent he 
 must be English ; I never saw any one of that 
 class so intelligent and so polite." 
 
 " He is an American," was the reply. 
 
 The result of his observations Frank was able 
 to communicate in a letter to his father, which he 
 sent by a vessel just ready to sail for New York. 
 
 Joseph Brandon wrote to his mother at the 
 same time, and expatiated largely upon the flat- 
 tering reception he had met with in France. He 
 failed not to describe the table equipage and the 
 dress of the ladies at the dinner party ; his own 
 dress, too, was very particularly mentioned. 
 Nothing, however, worthy of a traveller's notice 
 was described. Yet his mother's heart would be 
 gladdened, and his sisters would rejoice ; for he 
 assured them that he was sorry that he had been 
 only a burden to them, and concluded with a hope 
 that he might henceforth be to them a better son 
 and brother. 
 
 Madame La Tourette bade adieu to her young 
 friend, Frank, with sincere regret, begging him 
 to visit them again. This he earnestly hoped he 
 should be able to do. 
 
70 THE PARTING. 
 
 Louise, with the consent of her mother, gave 
 him a ring, within which was engraved, " Pensez 
 a moi." 
 
 Joseph was about taking leave without thanking 
 Madame for her politeness, when Frank gave 
 him a hint to do so. 
 
 Joe said she would not understand him ; but. 
 Frank waited for him, and at length he said, " 1 
 tank you berry much for de politeness you hab 
 show me," thinking he should be better under 
 stood in broken English. 
 
 Frank could scarcely refrain from laughing 
 outright, while Madame and Louise bowed with 
 the greatest civility, although their countenances 
 expressed very perceptibly that they were ex- 
 ceedingly amused. 
 
 When they had gone, Madame said, " Frank 
 Wood is a very polite, fine boy, and will make 
 people think well of Americans wherever he 
 goes." 
 
 "Yes, mamma, he will, if he does not take 
 that great awkward boy with* him to destroy the 
 good opinion." 
 
 " Let us ever, my child, cherish the memory 
 of the good and the agreeable that we discover, 
 
THE PARTING. 7l 
 
 and obliterate the bad and the disagreeable," 
 said Madame. 
 
 Louise was in no danger, in this instance, of 
 not following her mother's wise injunction. 
 
CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 A STORM AT SEA. 
 
 THE vessel had a speedy voyage up the Med 
 terranean to Smyrna, and, having taken in hei 
 lading, sailed for Boston. 
 
 The voyage continued prosperous for several 
 days ; after they had left the Straits of Gibraltar, 
 head winds prevailed, and then a dead calm. 
 Several of the sailors were seized with a malig- 
 nant fever. The captain, too, was ill. The 
 labor of working the ship, as well as the care 
 of the sick, came upon a few. 
 
 Frank, who had, till this time, continued to 
 act as captain's clerk, now cheerfully returned 
 to the duties of a common sailor. 
 
 Brandon's visit at Marseilles for a time ren- 
 dered him quite proud and pretending but there 
 was no use in it no good was gained, and Frank 
 

 A STORM AT SEA. 73 
 
 advised him never again to boast, among his 
 messmates, of "that famous French dinner- 
 party." 
 
 From a notion that ardent spirits would keep 
 off infection, Brandon took large quantities of 
 rum. Frank warned him seriously of the dan- 
 ger he incurred of becoming intemperate. 
 
 "I thought you had too much taste to be a 
 tee-totaller," said Joe. 
 
 " You did not think I had a taste for rum ? M 
 replied Frank. 
 
 " No ; but I thought, with all your ideas of 
 refinement, that you would drink wine like a gen- 
 tleman. I was surprised to see you refuse Cham 
 pagne and Burgundy at that famous French 
 dinner-party." 
 
 " I promised my father, before I left home 
 the first time, that I would not drink wine nor 
 ardent spirits, and I have not broken my prom- 
 ise." 
 
 " Well, I can tell you that those stylish 
 French people looked at you as if they thought 
 you were terrible green not to take wine ; I dare 
 say they thought you never saw any thing of the 
 kind before." 
 
 " You are quite mistaken, I told them that 1 
 
74 A STORM AT SEA. 
 
 never drank wine, and they, with true politeness 
 did not urge it upon me." 
 
 In spite of his precautionary measures, Bran- 
 don was seized violently with the fever. Two of 
 the sailors had already died, and were buried in 
 the depths of the ocean. Poor Joe was terribly 
 alarmed. 
 
 " Frank," said he, " I do not think I shall get 
 over this, for every body is so selfish that I can 
 now hardly get a cup of cold water brought to 
 me. O, if I only had my mother to take care 
 of me." 
 
 " The sailors have all so much to do, poor 
 fellows ! " replied Frank, kindly, " that they can- 
 not devote as much time as they would wish to 
 the sick. I will do all that I can for you, and I 
 am glad that I went to the hospitals at Marseilles, 
 for I there learnt many things which may be of 
 use to us now. I shall sponge you as often as I 
 can with cold water, and use some other reme- 
 dees of which ' I there heard. Keep up good 
 courage, Joseph, and I think you will do well. 
 There is one thing I want you to promise me ; 
 that is, when you recover, that you will drink no 
 more ardent spirits." 
 
 " Never, in all my life ? " inquired Joe. 
 
A STORM AT SEA. 75 
 
 i 
 
 " .N jver. The men on board who drank most 
 freely are the ones who have died, and not a 
 temperate sailor has yet had the fever." 
 
 " Ah, I think I shall never wish to take 
 another drop, and I solemnly promise you that 
 I will not, unless it is prescribed by a physician 
 for a medicine. Give me water, water, now, for 
 I am mad with thirst." 
 
 After giving him the water, Frank was sum- 
 moned upon deck, and was unable to return for 
 several hours ; when he did so he found Brandon 
 raving with the delirium of fever. He called 
 upon his mother in the most piteous accents, 
 begging her not to forsake him. 
 
 Frank tried to soothe him, used the cold 
 water frequently, and gave him such medicines 
 as the ship's medicine-chest afforded. Although 
 exhausted by fatigue, he sat by him for several 
 hours. 
 
 The Bible, the gift of his mother, he read with 
 deep interest. He knew not how soon his own 
 turn might come to be laid low, and he prayed 
 earnestly for himself and his companion. 
 
 Towards morning Joseph slept, and Frank 
 snatched a short nap. He was aroused from it 
 to relieve the watch upon deck. 
 
76 A STORM AT SEA. 
 
 So sleepy that he could hardly stand, he stag- 
 gered upon deck, and there met the captain, who 
 was just able to come out of the cabin. 
 
 Seeing Frank thus staggering along, with his 
 face flashed and his eyes red and swollen, he 
 laid his hand roughly upon his shoulder, and 
 said, " What ! drunk at this time of the morning^ 
 ooy ! you must have the cat for this." 
 
 " Sir, you are mistaken," said Frank, with 
 great mildness and self-possession, " I am very 
 weary and sleepy from having taken care of poor 
 Brandon all night. I was afraid that he might 
 not live till morning. I never take spirits, Sir." 
 
 " Excuse me, my good fellow ; I see I was 
 entirely mistaken," said the captain. " How 
 much you gain by never getting into a passion. 
 There is nothing convinces one so soon as this 
 mild way of speaking. It makes me think of my 
 good old mother. I wish I was more like the 
 old lady. How sorry she would have been to 
 hear me rip out an oath as I do now and then. 
 Odd zooks, there is a storm brewing. There, 
 look over the water, there comes a real hurri- 
 cane, down with the sails ! " 
 
 The few sailors on deck flew into the rigging, 
 but before they could succeed in taking in the 
 
A STORM AT SEA. 77 
 
 sails, the gale came rushing on so furiously that 
 the vessel reeled, and seemed fighting for exist- 
 ence, " like a thing of life." 
 
 Another blast, still more furious; she was 
 thrown completely upon one side, and the tatter- 
 sd sails floated upon the water. 
 
 Two men went overboard and were lost ; the 
 
 .ei/iainder clung to the sides, spars, and rigging. 
 
 Jitters were given to cut away the masts. In 
 
 ,onoequence of the small number of the crew re- 
 
 'mining, this was a task of great difficulty ; it was, 
 
 x>wever, accomplished, and the vessel righted. 
 
 Che storm raged fiercely for several hours ; the 
 
 training that the ship had undergone loosened the 
 
 timbers, so that there was water in th hold, and 
 
 the pumps were occasionally used. 
 
 As soon as Frank could make his way to the 
 place where he had left Joseph, he went to see 
 what had become of him. To Frank's utter 
 astonishment, there he still lay in his hammock. 
 
 Whether he had clung to it the whole time or 
 not could rot be ascertained ; there he was, 
 deathly pale, cu:d &o weak as to be unable to 
 move. 
 
 " Fraak, v gfc'd fce> *n a feeble voice, " Is it you ? 
 I believe I am *Vu& I ani not fit to die. Wha 
 
78 A STORM AT SEA. 
 
 a bad son and brother I have been. What shal 
 I do ? " 
 
 "Ask God's forgiveness," said Frank, deeply 
 moved. 
 
 " I have," was the reply. 
 
 After a few moments' pause, Joseph inquired, 
 * How near home are we, Frank ? " 
 
 " We are quite distant ; you know we had not 
 made very rapid progress after we left Gibraltar, 
 when we carried away our masts " 
 
 " Carried away our masts ! " interrupted Jo- 
 seph. "When? how?" 
 
 Frank commenced telling the sad tale, but svi 
 extreme was the weakness of Joseph that he fe 
 asleep during the recital. 
 
 He awoke after some hours, refreshed and evi- 
 dently better; the crisis was past, and recovery 
 probable. Great was his astonishment on learning 
 the full extent of the catastrophe ; and it was diffi- 
 cult to convince him that the ship was not even 
 then in immediate danger of being engulfed in 
 the ocean. 
 
 The danger, though not immediate, was immi- 
 nent. There was the ship that came so gallantly 
 out nf port, every sail proudly swelling to the 
 breeze, bearing high aloft the stars and stripes 
 
A ST3RM AT SEA. 79 
 
 BO dear to every American, there she lay, 
 maimed, deformed, floating at the mercy of every 
 wave ; her hardy crew lessened by death ; the re- 
 mainder sick, disheartened, almost in despair 
 their only hope that some vessel might heave in 
 sight and take them from the wreck. 
 
 In consequence of the small number of service- 
 able hands on board, it was some time before they 
 succeeded in raising a jury-mast ; when this was 
 accomplished, they spread their sails and steered 
 for Fayal, one of the Azore Islands. 
 
 Brandon was now rapidly recovering. He had 
 no friend but Frank ; no one else troubled them- 
 selves about him, or rendered him the slightest 
 attention. Gratitude, like one fresh flower in a 
 desert, sprung up in the heart of Joseph Brandon ; 
 and its kindred flower, affection, must soon bloom 
 in its neighbourhood. The selfishness of his na- 
 ture had yielded, and he allowed himself to be 
 more influenced by his young friend that he ever 
 before had been by any human being. 
 
 Moreover, that Almighty Being whose wonders 
 are upon the great deep, was now often present to 
 his thoughts ; for in his agony, with death staring 
 him in the face, he had prayed. 
 
 During the long and tedious hours of lone& 
 
$0 A STORM AT SEA. 
 
 ness that he now suffered, there was abundan 
 time lor reflection. His life passed before him 
 like a moving panorama. What had he eveT 
 done for the happiness of others ? Nothing. 
 How had he sought his own ? By trying to ap- 
 pear what he was not. He wished to appear rich, 
 he was not so. He wished to appear brave, 
 at heart he was a coward. He wished to be con- 
 sidered polite and refined, he was rude and 
 coarse. In striving after appearances he had to- 
 tally neglected reality. 
 
 His mother, his excellent, loving mother, she 
 was no sv revealed to him in her true character. 
 The largo tears rolled over his pale, thin face, as 
 he thought of her neglected counsels, and all the 
 trouble he had occasioned her. 
 
 Fanny, sweet Fanny, seemed to hover near 
 him like some mild spirit of love and tenderness. 
 Susan, too, in spite of her candor and plain- 
 dealing severity, was a generous sister. How 
 could he ever repay them all for their self-sacri- 
 ficing kindness? He thought, again and again, 
 of that last fortnight in Boston, when, instead of 
 earnestly looking for some respectable employ- 
 ment, he had strutted about the streets as if he 
 .jyere as rich as Croesus, until his time and money 
 
r A STORM AT SEA. 81 
 
 were spent, and he was forced, as a last resort^ to 
 go to sea. 
 
 That home, which he had once despised, what 
 spot on earth now seemed so lovely ! " Home, 
 sweet home." When the sullen waves dashed at 
 midnight against the shattered vessel, O, what ag- 
 ony thrilled through his soul as those words 
 seemed to vibrate there, 
 
 u Efane ' aweet home ! There 's no place like home ! " 
 
CHAPTER Xili. 
 
 A SAIL. 
 
 ON the fourth morning after the ship had car- 
 ried away her masts, the joyful sound was heard, 
 "A sail! a sail!" 
 
 Suddenly a fresh breeze came over the water ; 
 the vessels neared and neared, and the crew of 
 the dismasted ship became almost frantic with 
 
 joy- 
 it was soon changed to the deepest dejection ; 
 
 for the vessel bore off in an easterly direction, 
 and either saw not their forlorn condition, or 
 chose to take no notice of their signals of dis- 
 tress. 
 
 To increase their anxiety, the leak was gain- 
 ing fast upon them, and the labor at the pumps 
 was incessant. Captain Wye, who had just re- 
 covered from sickness, which had been succeed 
 
ed by great debility, seemed entirely bewildered 
 and knew not what directions to give for the safe- 
 ty and preservation of the crew. 
 
 Some of the sailors, in a state of extreme des- 
 peration, drank freely of ardent spirits, and be- 
 came mutinous and disobedient. 
 
 It was necessary that all should work, by 
 turns, at the pumps. Towards the morning of 
 the fifth day, while the captain, Joseph Brandon, 
 Frank Wood, and two common sailors, were 
 sleeping soundly, during the brief space allowed 
 them for rest, the first mate, with the remain- 
 der of the crew, had taken the long-boat and es- 
 caped. 
 
 One of the sailors, accustomed to wake, from 
 habit, at the time appointed, went upon deck 
 without being called, and found it entirely desert- 
 ed. He immediately gave the alarm, and all 
 who remained on board were soon upon deck. 
 
 Frank's courage had held out manfully, hith- 
 erto, but when he saw the terrible condition to 
 which they were now reduced, he sat down and 
 wept piteously. " My father, my dear father, I 
 shall never see you again," said he, with a burst- 
 ing heart. 
 
 Brandon, who was but just able to crawl upon 
 
84 A SAIL. 
 
 deck, at the sight of Frank's sorrow was in abso 
 lute despair. 
 
 The water was gaining rapidly in the hold. 
 The sailors said the vessel could not remain above 
 water more than twelve hours longer. 
 
 The captain seemed utterly to have lost his 
 reason. He was calm, but it was not the calm- 
 ness of a strong mind ; it was the fearful indiffer- 
 ence of idiotic derangement. 
 
 The sailors went to work to construct a raft. 
 They endeavoured to cheer Frank with the hope 
 that they might thus be saved, and he aroused 
 himself to assist them in their labor. 
 
 As soon as it was finished, he attempted to go 
 below to get his chest, or at least some of his 
 clothing. It was already under water. Joseph 
 was sorely distressed when he found that his 
 chest, too, was not to be recovered. 
 
 They had hitherto had an abundance of water 
 and provisions ; but the men in the long-boat had 
 carried off a quantity, and what remained would 
 not long hold out. 
 
 Far in the distance the anxious eyes of one of 
 the sailors discovered a mere speck in the hori- 
 zon. It might be a sail, it might be only a 
 cloud. It grew larger and larger. It was a sail 1 
 
A SAIL. 85 
 
 O, how the hearts of the poor fellows throbbed 
 with anxiety as they watched the increasing mast, 
 and then the hull of the vessel, as it came up 
 fully to view. It was steering towards them. It 
 came nearer and nearer hour after hour. At last 
 they shouted, and made signals, though still too 
 distant to be heard. On, on, came the vessel, 
 bounding over the waves. 
 
 " Captain ! " said Frank, " Captain ! we shall 
 be saved." 
 
 " Well, what of that ? " said the poor captain, 
 without the slightest expression of joy. 
 
 44 Could I not possibly get at my chest ? " said 
 Brandon. " What will people think of me in 
 these old clothes ? " 
 
 46 It would not be safe to make the attempt," 
 was the reply of one of the sailors, an experi- 
 enced tar. 
 
 44 Never mind your clothes, Joe, if your life is 
 saved. There comes a boat, hurrah!" cried 
 Frank. 
 
 It was an English brig, bound for Fayal. The 
 boat was soon alongside. 
 
 44 Halloo! shipmates!" said a bluff English 
 sailor ; u you do n't spread much canvass. I 'm 
 afraid you 're bound for Davy's locker." And 
 
Ob A SAIL. 
 
 he I jmped upon the deck, now almost level with 
 the ocean, followed by his companions. 
 
 The story of their misfortunes was soon told. 
 
 " Hurry ! hurry ! " said the first speaker ; " we 
 nave n't a second to lose. What ails your cap- 
 tain ? He seems in a brown study." 
 
 w He has been very ill, and since his misfor- 
 tunes seems to have lost his reason. We must 
 help him on board," said Frank, taking him 
 kindly by the hand. " We must leave the poor 
 Sally Ann." 
 
 " That was my wife's name," said the captain. 
 " Must we go ? Well, just as you say " ; and he 
 stepped into the boat. Brandon, Frank, and the 
 sailors followed. 
 
 A few casks of biscuit, and some other things 
 of little value, were all that could be saved from 
 the wreck. 
 
 They rowed for the brig; and, after having 
 been cordially welcomed by the English captain 
 and crew, they turned to see, once more, the 
 wreck of the Sally Ann. 
 
 "The shattered thing 
 Had passed away and left no mark." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 FAYAL. 
 
 WITH a fair wind the brig went on towards 
 Fayal. There seemed but little change in the 
 captain from day to day, and yet he was declin- 
 ing. Frank attended upon him with as much de- 
 votedness as if he had been his father. 
 
 The cry of " Land, land," the third day after 
 they left the wreck, started the captain from a 
 long sleep. Frank was sitting by him. He knew 
 him, and calling him by name, said '' Was not 
 that the cry of land ? " 
 
 " It was," said Frank, pleased to see that the 
 captain had once more his reason. " Here is 
 Captain Brown who will tell you what it is." 
 
 " How are you, Captain ? Better, I hope. We 
 shall soon be in port. The land is a high moun 
 tain in one of the Azores, called the Peak," said 
 the English captain. 
 
 jffc** ' 
 
 , 
 
88 FATAL. 
 
 " I have a dim recollection of escape from a 
 wreck. The poor Sally Ann, did she go down, 
 Frank ? " asked Captain Wye, in a mournful 
 voice. 
 
 " She did, Sir, but all were saved," replied 
 Frank. 
 
 " You are a good lad, Frank, God bless you," 
 said the poor captain ; then, lowering his voice 
 almost to a whisper, he said, " You pray some- 
 times, Frank, do n't you ? Well, pray for me, 
 for I am going to my long account. Bury me in 
 the ocean, Captain, I shall rest better there." 
 
 For a few moments he was silent ; he thought 
 of his far-distant home. He then called Frank 
 again, and said, u Here, my brave boy, take my 
 watch, it is all I have to give you, it keeps true 
 time ; and when you get home, go to New Bed- 
 ford and tell my wife all about my misfortunes. 
 Call the other boys." 
 
 The sailors were called. 
 
 44 Well, my lads, your captain 's just going," 
 said he. " Keep steady, boys, and then, you 
 know, all 's well. There 's nothing more com- 
 fortable than a clean conscience when one is 
 about to die. Brandon, I thought you would 
 have gone before me, but it seems you stay a 
 
FATAL. 89 
 
 'hile longer. Be kind to Frank, whatever hap- 
 pens ; he has been kind enough to you. God 
 -aless you, Captain Brown. Take good care of 
 these poor fellows." 
 
 And here the captain's mind wandered again ; 
 he muttered indistinctly for a while, and then was 
 for ever silent. In a few hours he had breath- 
 ed his last. 
 
 " They saw the pomp of day depart, 
 
 The cloud resign its golden crown, 
 When to the ocean's beating heart 
 
 The sailor's wasted corse went down. 
 Peace he to those whose graves are made 
 Beneath the bright and silver wave." 
 
 The town of Villa de Horta, in Fayal, is in- 
 habited principally by the Portuguese. At the 
 time of the arrival of Captain Brown with the 
 wrecked seamen from the Sally Ann, it happened 
 there was no American consul there, and only 
 one American resident in the place. Vessels 
 from the United States, however, frequently visit- 
 ed the island ; and the captain, after giving each 
 of <ih<} sailors a full suit of coarse clothes, left 
 tfom to find what opportunity they could to re- 
 t *Q to their own country. 
 
 The very next day, the two sailors shipped on 
 
90 FATAL. 
 
 board a returning East-Indiaman, in want of 
 hands, leaving Joseph and Frank to take care of 
 each other. 
 
 They walked abou- for some time, inquiring if 
 there were any residents from the United States. 
 The Portuguese, whom they met, (}id not under- 
 stand them ; but at length an Englishman direct- 
 ed them to a well-built house in one of the prin- 
 cipal streets, saying it was the dwelling of an 
 American merchant. 
 
 Frank and Joe, with beating hearts, stood at the 
 door of their fellow-countryman. A Portuguese 
 servant appeared, who was, after much difficulty, 
 made to comprehend that they wished to speak 
 with his master. 
 
 A tall, spare man, with a hooked nose and 
 small grey eyes, soon appeared. 
 
 Joe made his best dancing-school bow, and, as 
 he was the oldest, chose to be spokesman. 
 
 " Sir," said he, " you see before you two un- 
 fortunate young gentlemen from the United State - 
 who have had the misfortune to be shipwrecked 
 and lose all their clothes. We take the liberty to 
 present our deplorable case for your consideration 
 We are not sailors in the common acceptation of 
 the term." 
 
FAYAL. 91 
 
 Here was a little of the old desire to be a gen- 
 tleman. It takes a long time to overcome early 
 habits. 
 
 " I see plainly you are a couple of English 
 runaway sailor-boys, and I will have nothing to 
 do with you," said the stranger, preparing to shut 
 the door in their faces. 
 
 " Stay, stay, I entreat you," said Frank. " We 
 are indeed your countrymen ; sailors from the 
 Sally Ann, of Boston." 
 
 " Yes," added Joe, " and we both belong to 
 very respectable families at home." 
 
 " I am not anxious to make the acquaintance 
 of such highly respectable individuals," said the 
 man, shutting the door, and bolting it. 
 
 Brandon, who had so recently recovered from 
 severe illness, was pale and weak. He sat down 
 upon the door-step, exclaiming, " I can go on 
 further. I should just like to tell that fellow that 
 lie is no gentleman." 
 
 " And yet, Joe, he was a remarkably well- 
 dressed man," replied Frank, with a meaning 
 smile. " At least you can rest here a while, till 
 I look about and see what can be done." 
 
 Frank walked off briskly, and Joe laid down a 
 small budget, done up in a silk handkerchief, 
 
92 FATAL 
 
 nis whole worldly possessions ; and, leaning his 
 head upon his hands, fell into sad meditations. 
 
 While ho was thus musing, the door of the 
 house again opened, and the Portuguese servant 
 appeared and began scolding him in a violent 
 manner. The words he did not understand, but 
 the tones and gestures plainly intimated that it 
 was the man's intention to drive him away. 
 
 As Joe had agreed to wait there for Frank, he 
 did not move, but said, in a loud tone, " Tell 
 your master that I say he is no gentleman, and 
 when I get home I will report him as a mean 
 fellow." 
 
 The servant did not understand this but the 
 master, who was at an open window above, did, 
 and coming down to the door, he gave the little 
 budget a kick into the street, and said, " Be- 
 gone, you rascal, and if I catch you here again 
 I will give you a good cowhiding." 
 
 " But," said Joe, in an expostulatory manner, 
 u I am to wait here for my friend ; and Mr. 
 Whats-your-name " 
 
 " My name is George Washington Mudge, 
 'well known upon 'change,' as the saying is. 
 You report me at home! A man worth forty 
 ihousand dollars reported as a mean fellow by 
 
FATAL. 93 
 
 a dirty, low -lived sailor-boy, not worth a brass 
 farthing ? Who would believe you ? Come ! 
 be going, as fast as your feet will carry you." 
 
 " I wished only to wait here till Frank Wood 
 returned, but I can go to the next door-step," 
 said Joe, picking up his little bundle and mut- 
 tering, " What a horrid disgrace to the name 
 of Washington ! What a disgrace to his country ! 
 A man worth forty thousand dollars too ! " 
 
 Disheartened, and actually hungry, he sat down 
 upon the next door-step, and there he waited for 
 Frank's return till the sun was sinking below the 
 horizon. 
 
 Meantime Frank passed through one street, and 
 another, and another, not meeting with any per- 
 son whom he could venture to address. At length 
 he bethought himself of the captain's watch ; and 
 it occurred to him, if he could dispose of that 
 he could procure lodgings for himself and Jo- 
 seph. 
 
 Seeing a large goldsmith's shop, he went into 
 it, and found it was kept by a Frenchman. He 
 handed him the watch, and asked how much he 
 would give for it. The goldsmith looked at the 
 watch, a fine gold repeater, and then at Frank r 
 shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and said, 
 
94 FAYAL, 
 
 " Where you get him watch, you English boy , I 
 mend him vonce for von Capitaine Vy." 
 
 " Captain Wye ! Did you know him ? He 
 was my captain on hoard the Sally Ann, and he 
 gave me that watch when he was dying. I would 
 not part with it, but I have nothing else to supply 
 my necessities and those of a friend." 
 
 " Ah, I 'fraid you no come honestly by him, 
 but I give you twenty dollars for him." 
 
 At this moment a gentleman, who had been 
 standing in another part of the shop, came up, 
 and said, " Monsieur Fourcher, why do you not 
 speak French with the boy ? I wish to hear what 
 he has to say." 
 
 " The very reason why I did not speak to him 
 in French is, because I wish to make a bargain 
 with the young rascal who has stolen this 
 watch." 
 
 ' Stolen it ! " exclaimed Frank, indignantly ; 
 " I told you, Sir, it was the gift of my poor cap- 
 tain, his parting gift ; and cruel necessity alone 
 obliges me to dispose of it." 
 
 " Have the goodness to relate the particulars," 
 maid the gentleman, who seemed much interested. 
 tU Let me, meantime, examine the watch." 
 
 The goldsmith seemed reluctant to lef it go out 
 of his hands, but durst not refuse. 
 
FAYAL. yo 
 
 Frank then gave a brief but clear account of 
 their voyage from Boston to Gibraltar, Mar- 
 seilles, and Smyrna, and from thence homeward, 
 the gale, the loss of the vessel, the death of 
 Captain Wye, and his being left with Brandon at 
 Fayal without any means of returning home. As 
 Frank concluded his story, he said, " I must 
 hasten to my friend, for he will be alarmed at my 
 long absence." 
 
 " And I will go with you," said the stranger. 
 " Monsieur Fourcher, you must wait a while be- 
 fore you can buy this watch for twenty dollars, 
 \\hich must have cost two hundred." 
 
 " And so the captain left you unprovided for ? 
 That was just like John Bull," continued he, as 
 they walked along. 
 
 " Excuse me, Sir, you are mistaken. He was 
 kind to us. He gave me the clothes I have on, 
 and a suit to each of my companions in misfor- 
 tune." 
 
 " And left you to find a passage home as you 
 could. And where are you going to stay in the 
 mean time ? " 
 
 " I do no; know, Sir, but I have already met 
 with so much kindness that I trust Providence 
 mil open the -vay for our* speedy return home. 
 
96 FATAL. 
 
 I am sorry to say that we met with rudeness and 
 unkindness from the only one from whom we 
 could reasonably have expected different treat- 
 ment, our own countryman who resides here." 
 
 " One Mr. Mudge ? " 
 
 " I do not know his name." 
 
 " As mean a scoundrel as ever disgraced any 
 country is that same Mudge, for I have no doubt 
 he was the man. He set up a little huckster's 
 shop here some years since, and has scraped to- 
 gether a few thousands by all manner of cheat- 
 ing and roguery, rum-selling and so forth." 
 
 " I am sorry my country should be so badly 
 represented here," replied Frank, with an ex- 
 pression of face that denoted extreme mortifica- 
 tion. 
 
 " O, every country has its rogues. The 
 Frenchman is one, for instance, who would have 
 taken your watch for one tenth of its true value. 
 Will you have the kindness to tell me how you 
 happened to be a sailor, for that you were des- 
 tined for some other employment I am certain." 
 
 Frank then related his loss of health; his* 
 father's profession; his advice with regard to 
 going to sea; and h'is recovery in consequence 
 The stranger had already heard his account of the 
 
FAYAL. 91 
 
 gale and wreck. He listened with much interest 
 questioning Frank closely, and at the same time 
 politely. 
 
 It was some time before they reached the place 
 where Brandon was left; when they did so, he 
 was not there. Frank, much alarmed, raised the 
 huge old-fashioned knocker, and gave a thunder- 
 ing rap. Mr. Mudge himself appeared, and, see- 
 ing only Frank, said, in a very harsh tone, 
 " What ! one of those young scoundrels again. 
 Begone, you scamp, and do n't darken my door 
 again." 
 
 The stranger stepped forward. Though ho 
 did not understand English, the threatening tone 
 was not to be misunderstood. The moment Mr. 
 Mudge perceived him, he bowed in the most obse- 
 quious manner, and said, in Portuguese, " I am 
 most happy to see you, Don Francesco Rebel 
 ro ; most happy to see you. Do me the honor to 
 walk in." 
 
 " Much obliged to you, Mr. Mudge ; I only 
 came with this young gentleman in search of his 
 companion," coolly replied Don Francesco. 
 
 Brandon, exhausted by weakness and fatigue, 
 ha! fallen asleep upon the neighbouring door-step. 
 The noise awakened him and he carne forward, 
 
5fO FATAL. 
 
 "The friend of whom I spoke,- Josepn Bran* 
 dcn ? " said Frank. 
 
 "Your fellow-countrymen, Mr. Mudge," said 
 the Don. 
 
 " I do n't believe a word of it ; they are runa- 
 way English sailors. The very clothes they have 
 on are English," replied Mr. Mudge. 
 
 This only confirmed what Frank had said of 
 their being the gift of the English captain. 
 
 "Good evening, Mr. Mudge," said the gen- 
 tleman. " Come, my lads, we will see where 
 we can find a comfortable place for you to lodge, 
 and to-morrow find out what further can be 
 done for you." 
 
 Not far distant was a Portuguese inn, where 
 he left them for the night. 
 
 Joe made wry mouths at the accommodations, 
 which were neither the neatest nor most luxuri- 
 ous possible. Frank said their new friend was 
 truly a good Samaritan; and a hearty supper 
 and good night's repose brought Joe to the same 
 opinion 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 REMEMBERED KINDNESS. 
 
 ACCORDING to promise, the Don appeared early 
 the next morning. 
 
 Refreshing sleep and a careful morning toilet 
 had wonderfully improved the appearance of both 
 the boys. 
 
 "I related your story to my wife," said the 
 Don to Frank, " and she is very anxious to see 
 you. She has been in the United States, and can 
 talk with you about your country." 
 
 The exterior of the house of Don Francesco 
 was plain, but the interior was tastefully and rich- 
 ly furnished. 
 
 They passed through several large splendidly 
 furnished apartments to a smaller room, in which 
 was a lady, with easy, lively manners, and a 
 very pleasing countenance. She received them 
 
100 REMEMBERED KINDNESS. 
 
 with great politeness, and asked Frank to have 
 the kindness to relate his own story and that of 
 his companion. 
 
 He dm so, in d brief and simple manner, and 
 the Donna frequently dashed away the tears from 
 her eyes during the recital. When he had finish- 
 ed, she said to her husband, in Portuguese, " Every 
 word of this recital is true, I am sure. Trust to 
 my woman's instinct, this is a noble boy." 
 
 She then inquired if they had ever been in 
 Charleston, South Carolina. They had not. 
 
 " I once spent some months there, and re- 
 ceived the greatest possible kindness and hospi- 
 tality from entire strangers, and I am anxious 
 to return it, in some degree, to your countrymen." 
 Then, turning to her husband, she said, in Por- 
 tuguese, "We must try and do all we can to 
 make these boys comfortable while they remain 
 with us. Would it not be well to ask them to 
 stay with us. They can have their meals served 
 in their own rooms." 
 
 " Just as you say, dearest." 
 
 " Well, then, propose it to them." 
 
 " I really do not know how to invite them, the 
 younger one in particular, unless I do it as I 
 would tc any gentleman." 
 
REMEMBERED KINDNESS. 101 
 
 *' That would not answer. You can inquire if 
 they would like to remain with us, or would pre- 
 fer going to a hotel." 
 
 The Donna did so, and Frank replied, with 
 many thanks for their politeness, that of course 
 he left it for them to decide. 
 
 " Well, then, stay with us," said the Don, cor- 
 dially. 
 
 There is something wonderfully pleasing in 
 the earnest truthfulness of a well-bred boy 
 Frank might have invented a falsehood, but he 
 could not at once have assumed the manners and 
 conversation of a gentleman. These were the 
 corroborative testimony, the strong circumstantial 
 evidence, to his statement. 
 
 Brandon, who did not understand French, was 
 astonished when he found that they were invited 
 to make their home in that elegant mansion. 
 He saw that Frank was everywhere received and 
 treated as he really deserved to be, under what- 
 ever disguise he might appear. He could not but 
 feel his own inferiority, and resolutely determin- 
 ed that he would endeavour to cultivate those 
 qualities which would render him worthy of love 
 jind respect. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 A SURPRISE. 
 
 THE next morning, at breakfast, the Donna seem- 
 ed not quite at ease. Her treatment of the young 
 sailors was such as would have satisfied almost 
 any person in the world. She had fulfilled that 
 law of Christian benevolence to which a reward 
 is promised, "I was a stranger and ye took me 
 in," &c. Yet she was not satisfied with her- 
 self. She said to her husband, " No doubt we 
 shall even now be called romantic, and perhaps 
 imprudent, for taking these unfortunate ones into 
 our house ; but you know it is immaterial to us 
 what people say. We are rich, and have no re- 
 lations to share our wealth with us. I am not 
 satisfied with our reception of that amiable boy. 
 It seems quite uncivil not to invite our guests to 
 our own table." 
 
A SURPRISE. 103 
 
 " They would look very droll at your table ; it 
 is quite impossible," said he. 
 
 "No, not impossible," replied his wife, "for 
 we can easily furnish them with suitable apparel, 
 and then, I am sure it would do no harm to any 
 one. I should like to have that contemptible Mr. 
 Mudge, who treated them so cruelly, see Frank 
 walking with me dressed as he has been accus- 
 tomed to be. As for the other lad I do not know 
 what he is, as he cannot speak French. He is 
 by no means equal, however, to his compan- 
 ion." 
 
 " Do as you like, my dear," said the Don. " I 
 believe you will be happier for having discharged 
 the debt of obligation to these Americans, which 
 you incurred long since to some of their fellow- 
 countrymen." 
 
 Don Francesco then handed her his purse, say- 
 ing, " I hardly know in what way you can pro- 
 pose to them to purchase better clothing, but 1 
 leave that to your womanly ingenuity." 
 
 This, to the Donna, was rather a difficult task. 
 She requested a servant to call the young gen- 
 ilemen into the drawing-room; and, in a very 
 delicate manner, asked to be allowed to be their 
 banker, until they could draw upon friends at 
 home. 
 
104 A SURPRISE. 
 
 Joe's pride was really or apparently aroused 
 and he sa ; .d, " He could not think of receiving 
 pecuniary obligation " ; but Frank gratefully ac- 
 cepted the offer, knowing that his father would 
 remit the money at a future period. He advised 
 Toe not to pain his kind hostes by a refusal. 
 
 The truth was, Joseph had no idea of not ac- 
 cepting it, but he thought, very erroneously, that 
 it would be more polite to make a great ado 
 about it. 
 
 The purse was accepted, and the contents divid- 
 ed equally between them. 
 
 They soon started off to purchase an entire new 
 suit of clothes, and make such other additions to 
 their wardrobe as were needed. 
 
 They were so successful that they returned 
 before dinner, with the outer man completely 
 renovated. 
 
 It was amusing to see the difference of char- 
 acter exhibited in their dress. The flashy style 
 of Joe betrayed his lurking fondness for finery. 
 He had even purchased a large brooch of colored 
 glass, which, to say the loast, looked like an 
 emerald, and was a very conspicuous ornament. 
 His coat was green, his vest yellow and red, and 
 his pantaloons blue ; so that there was no want 
 
A SURPRISE. 105 
 
 of variety in colors. This, however, was only a 
 want of taste. Joseph was improving in charac- 
 ter. 
 
 Frank's dress was dark blue, with a white vest, 
 and as little expensive as he could possibly choose, 
 although he was morally certain that it would not 
 be many months before the money would be re- 
 funded. 
 
 At the dinner hour, an invitation was sent up 
 for the young gentlemen. They went down to 
 a sumptuous meal, such as they never had seen, 
 even at " the famous French dinner-party." 
 
 The kind Donna seemed pleased with the 
 change the boys had undergone. She said to her 
 husband, in Portuguese, " I 'm delighted ; what 
 would old Mudge say, if he should see these 
 young gentlemen ? " 
 
 According to the old proverb, the person spoken 
 of was near. Mr. George W. Mudge was shown 
 into the dining-room. The Donna requested him 
 to take a seat at table. He bowed, and bowed 
 lower and lower each time, until his head almost 
 touched the carpet. 
 
 " You do me great honor, Don Francesco Re- 
 beiro," said he. " I should have been here ac- 
 cording to your invitation at an earlier hour, but 
 
106 A SURPRISE. 
 
 important business detained me. A vessel haa 
 just arrived from the United States, and its cargo 
 is consigned to me." 
 
 " We are in no haste to part with our young 
 friends, ' said the Don, looking at Joseph and 
 Frank, " but this may be a pleasant opportunity 
 for them to return to their country." 
 
 " What ! are these young gentlemen Ameri- 
 cans ? You must introduce me to them." 
 
 The Don did so, with great ceremony. 
 
 " Highly delighted to see you, fellow-country- 
 men ; charmed ; hope for a better acquaintance," 
 exclaimed Mudge;' who, by the way, had quite 
 forgotten, at the moment, the poor sailor-boys. 
 
 "Fine looking young gentlemen," said the 
 Donna, in Portuguese. 
 
 " Beautiful ! " replied Mudge, " never saw 
 more elegant young men. Where do they be- 
 long ? " 
 
 " They will tell you." 
 
 " What part of the Union claims you, Sir," 
 said Mr. Mudge to Brandon. 
 
 " Boston has that honor," replied Brandon. 
 
 " The cradle of liberty ! A worthy son of 
 New England. And you, my fine fellow ? " 
 
 ** I was born in New York," replied Frank. 
 
A SURPRISE. 107 
 
 A sudden recollection seemed to come over 
 the mind of Mr. Mudge. He repelled the thought, 
 " No ; it cannot be that these are the two ship- 
 wrecked sailor-boys," said he to himself ; then, 
 again addressing them, "I hope I shall have 
 the pleasure of seeing you at my house often 
 while you are at Fayal ; make it quite your 
 home." 
 
 " Once is enough for me," said Joe, bluntly. 
 
 The suspicion, then, was correct. 
 
 " Don Francesco, it seems I have been labor- 
 ing under some great mistake. Your merry 
 young friends played a trick upon me by appear- 
 ing in the disguise of common sailors." 
 
 u No trick at all, Mr. Mudge ; they told you the 
 plain truth ; they were poor shipwrecked sailors, 
 far from their friends and country." 
 
 " Amazing ! " exclaimed Mr. Mudge, dropping 
 his knife'and fork, and rolling up his little grey 
 eyes to the ceiling. 
 
 " Do not lose your appetite so soon," said the 
 Donna. 
 
 Mr. Mudge partly recovered himself, saying, 
 " You have too much to tempt it, Donna there is 
 no danger of that." But so great was his aston- 
 ishment and dismay that it was exceedingly diffi- 
 cult for the poor man to swallo -v. 
 
108 A SURPRISE. 
 
 The Don had invited Mr. Mudge to dine with 
 him, not alone to mortify him, but because he 
 thought he might make him useful to his young 
 countrymen, whether he were willing or not to 
 be obliging to them. He knew it was too much 
 for Mr. Mudge's own interest not to oblige him, 
 he therefore said, "Who is the captain of the 
 American vessel, and when does she sail for the 
 United States ? " 
 
 " Captain Harrison, brig Sea-gull ; sails in 
 about a week for New York." 
 
 Frank did not understand what had been said, 
 as it was in Portuguese, but at the name of New 
 York his heart bounded, the blood flushed his face, 
 and he unconsciously repeated, half aloud, " New 
 York ! New York ! " 
 
 " You are then extremely anxious to see your 
 native city ? " said the Donna. 
 
 " I am, indeed," replied Frank, " for I fear my 
 father may hear of the wreck of the Sally Ann, 
 and will mourn for me as dead. Being an only 
 son, the loss will be great to him." 
 
 " I am afraid you are imposed upon, Don 
 Francesco," said Mr. Mudge. " What if you 
 should find that these are really English runa- 
 ways? > 
 
A SURPRISE. 109 
 
 " I shall say, that neither my wife noi myself 
 are capable of judging of character, and that you 
 are a man of infinite discernment," said the Don, 
 somewhat sarcastically. " But I am not troubled 
 about it. Ask Captain Harrison if he can take 
 two passengers, and what will be the passage- 
 money to New York." 
 
 " I will, Don, and moreover I shall ask him if 
 he ever heard of such a person as Dr. Wood. 
 Are they to be cabin passengers ? " 
 
 " Certainly," replied the Don, who had no idea 
 of making a half-way business of the benevolenj 
 task he had undertaken. 
 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE AZORES. 
 
 " HAVE you ever known much of the Azores t ' 
 inquired the Don of Frank. 
 
 " I have read very little about them," he re- 
 plied. " I know they lie ahout 800 miles from 
 Cape St. Vincent, and are supposed to have been 
 discovered and settled by the Portuguese. I have 
 seen volcanic specimens from these islands in the 
 mineralogical cabinet of Yale College, in Con- 
 necticut, and that is all the information that I 
 have about them." 
 
 u It was of their volcanic origin that I was 
 about to speak," continued the Don. " Some, 
 if not all of them, must have been formed by 
 earthquakes or volcanic eruptions. I wish the 
 American consul had not been absent from Fayal. 
 during your stay, as he would have accompanied 
 
THE AZORES. Ill 
 
 us on a little trip that I have projectei for the 
 morrow. I am going to take you, if it is agree- 
 able, over to St. George. With a fair wind we 
 can go over in about five hours. There was a 
 tremendous eruption on that island in 1808, and 
 its present condition affords much that is interest- 
 ing." 
 
 Accordingly, the next morning, the Don ant! 
 Donna, with their young guests, embarked in a 
 small vessel for St. George. The sky was beau- 
 tifully clear and serene, but the Don said they 
 were subject to violent winds in that region, and 
 could never be sure of the continuance of such 
 delightful weather, even during a single day. 
 
 " You know," said he, " they say that no ser- 
 pents of any kind (through the influence of St 
 Patrick) can live in Ireland. It is true that our 
 fertile islands give birth to no poisonous reptiles, 
 and it is generally believed that if they were 
 brought here, they would soon expire." 
 
 " I shall always think of Fayal as a little para- 
 dise," remarked Frank. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the one noxious animal that 
 you have found here, Mr. Mudge," said the 
 Donna. 
 
 " He is of foreign growth," replied Frank, " and 
 
112 THE AZORES. 
 
 it is a wonder how he can thrive among beings 
 so different.''' 
 
 By this time they had arrived at St. George. 
 After a ride of four miles, they came to the foot 
 of the crater ; its elevation is about 3,500 feet. 
 
 They mounted up its rough sides, and had, be- 
 sides the view of the crater, a fine prospect of the 
 sea, dotted with the other islands belonging to the 
 Aeores. 
 
 " The American consul, who was resident at 
 Fayal at the time of this eruption," said the Don, 
 44 gave the best account of it that I have seen, in 
 a letter to a friend of mine, who then resided at 
 St. Michael's, one of the largest of the Azores. 
 It was as follows : 
 
 44 4 On Sunday, the 1st of May, at one, P. M., 
 walking in the balcony of my house at St. Anto- 
 nio, I heard noises like the report of heavy can- 
 non at a distance, and concluded there was some 
 sea-engagement in the vicinity of the island. But 
 soon after, casting my eyes towards the island of 
 St. George, ten leagues distant, I perceived a 
 dense volume of smoke rising to an immense 
 height ; it was soon judged that a volcano had 
 burst out about the centre of that island, and this 
 was rendered certain when night came on, the 
 <ire exhibiting an awful appearance. 
 
THE AZORES. 113 
 
 ' * Being desirous of viewing this wonderful ex- 
 ertion of nature, I embarked, on the 3d of May, 
 accompanied by the British consul and ten other 
 gentlemen, for St. George's, and arrived at Vellas, 
 the principal town, at eleven, A. M. 
 
 " ' We found the poor inhabitants perfectly panic- 
 struck and wholly given up to religious ceremo- 
 nies and devotion ; and learned that the fire had 
 broken out in a ditch, in the midst of fertile pas- 
 tures, three leagues southeast of Vellas, and had 
 immediately formed a crater, in size about twenty- 
 four acres. It threw out small cinders arid pum- 
 ice-stones. The fire of this large crater had 
 nearly subsided, but on the evening preceding 
 our arrival another small crater had opened, one 
 league north of the large one. 
 
 u 'After taking some refreshment, we visited the 
 second crater, the sulphurous smoke of which, 
 driven southerly, rendered an attempt to approach 
 the large one impracticable. 
 
 " c When we came within a mile of the crater, 
 we found the earth rent in every direction, and, 
 as we approached nearer, some of the chasms 
 were six feet wide ; by leaping over some of these 
 chasms, and making windings to avoid the larger 
 ones, we at length arrived within two hundred 
 
] 14 THE AZORES. 
 
 yards of the spot, and saw it distinctly, in the 
 middle of a pasture. 
 
 " * The mouth of it was only about fifty yards 
 in circumference ; the fire seemed struggling for 
 vent ; the force with which the pale blue flame 
 issued forth resembled a powerful-steam-engine^ 
 multiplied a hundred-fold. The noise was deaf- 
 ening ; the earth where we stood had a tremulous 
 motion ; the whole island seemed convulsed ; 
 horrid bellowings were occasionally heard from 
 the bowels of the earth, and earthquakes were 
 frequent. 
 
 " ' After remaining here about ten mmutes, we 
 returned to town. The inhabitants had mostly 
 quitted their houses, and remained in the open air, 
 or under tents. 
 
 " ' On the same day, (the 4th of May,) we re- 
 turned to Fayal, and on the 5th and the succeed- 
 ing days, from twelve to fifteen small volcanoes 
 broke out in the very fields we had traversed on 
 the 3d, from the chasms before described, and 
 threw out a quantity of lava, which travelled on 
 slowly towards Vellas. The (Ire of those small 
 craters subsided, and the lava ceased running, 
 abo-! f the llth of May, on which day the large 
 ;olcano, that had lain dormant for nine days, 
 
THE AZORES. 115 
 
 burst forth again like a roaring lion, with horrid 
 belch ings, distinctly heard at twelve leagues' dis* 
 tance ; throwing up prodigiously large stones and 
 an immense quantity of lava, illuminating at 
 night the whole island. This continued with tre- 
 mendous force until the 5th of June, exhibiting 
 the awful yet magnificent spectacle of a perfect 
 river of fire (distinctly seen from Fayal) run- 
 ning into the sea. In a few days after, it ceased 
 entirely. 
 
 " ' The lava inundated and swept away entirely 
 the town of Ursulina, and country-houses and 
 cottages adjacent, as well as the farm-houses 
 throughout its course. As usual, it gave timely 
 notice of its approach, and most of the inhabi- 
 tants fled ; some few, however, remaining in the 
 vicinity of it too long, endeavouring to save their 
 furniture and effects, were scalded by flashes of 
 steam, which, without injuring their clothes, took 
 off not only their skin but their flesh. About six- 
 ty persons were thus miserably scalded, some of 
 whom died on the spot or a few days after. Num- 
 bers of cattle shared the same fate. 
 
 " ' The judge and principal inhabitants left the 
 island very early. The consternation and anxiety 
 were for some days so great among the people, 
 
116 THE AZORES. 
 
 Jiat even their domestic concerns were abandon- 
 ed, and, amidst plenty, they were in danger of 
 starving. Supplies of ready -baked bread were 
 sent from hence to their relief, and large boats to 
 bring away the inhabitants who had lost their 
 dwellings. 
 
 " c In short, the island, heretofore rich in cattle, 
 corn, and wine, is nearly ruined, and a scene of 
 greater desolation and distress has seldom been 
 witnessed in any country.' 
 
 " Thus far the American consul. You see," 
 said the Don, " that this scene of desolation is now 
 partly relieved ; vines have sprung up over a part 
 that was at that time nearly desolate, but the 
 traces of the streams of lava we can still discern." 
 
 " The night is fast approaching, but, as the 
 moon is at the full, the sail of ten leagues to 
 Fayal will be delightful," said the Donna. 
 
 The wind blew a brisk breeze, and although 
 not fair, it wafted them in seven or eight hours 
 back to Fayal. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 THE week previous to the sailing of the Sea- 
 gull was a very useful and interesting one to 
 Frank and Joseph. Their kind host and hostess 
 enjoyed highly the gratification they were able to 
 afford their, young guests. 
 
 Often, when looking at Frank, would the Don- 
 na say to herself, " Would that Heaven had grant- 
 ed me such a son ! " 
 
 Mr Mudge, finding how much it was for his 
 interest to be obliging to the guests of Don 
 Francesco Rebeiro, bestirred himself to secure 
 their passage as cabin passengers, and one would 
 have thought that he was intensely anxious for 
 their welfare. This anxiety was doubtless much 
 increased by finding there was an eminent phy- 
 sician in New York by the name of Dr. Wood 
 
118 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 lie went so far as to invite the Don and Donna, 
 with Joseph and Frank, to " take tea" with him 
 and as they all were curious to see how he kept 
 bachelor's hall, the invitation was accepted. 
 
 The Portuguese servant, who had so efficiently 
 aided his ma?tftr in the ejectment of Joseph from 
 his premises, was cook, waiter, vaiet, and cham- 
 ber-maid to the establishment. He answered the 
 knock at the door, on the arrival of the guests, 
 dressed in a suit of green baize, turned up with 
 yellow flannel, a livery servant. 
 
 Every room in the house was used for the 
 storage of some kinds of goods. Kegs, barrels, 
 boxes, hampers, champagne-baskets, demijohns, 
 bottles, were usually in dire confusion. Now, 
 they were covered with baizes and other cloths. 
 
 The parlour was fitted up with red, green, and 
 blue flannel, arranged according to the taste of 
 master and man. The table was garnished with 
 a variety of china and crockery, from three quar- 
 ters of the globe, pieces that never dreamed of 
 being related to each other. 
 
 At the head of the table sat the lean man 
 pouring tea from a black teapot, that was of 
 Yankee origin, and might have belonged to Mr 
 Mudge's grandmother, pouring it into beautiful 
 Dresden china. 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 119 
 
 " How astonishing strange it was," exclaimed 
 Mr. Mudge, " that I should not have known that 
 these were young gentleman, in any disguise. 
 It must have been my rascal of a servant, who 
 came to me with such a horrid story of two fierce 
 looking sailors, that I could not see exactly with 
 my own eyes. I, who have been so much in 
 gentlemen's company, surely ought to have 
 known one as quick as 1 know real Mocha 
 coffee." 
 
 " I do not think, Sir, that it is strange," said 
 Frank, " for we were in a sad condition, and 
 must have looked badly." 
 
 " But Mr. Brandon who now looks so very 
 elegant it is most monstrous strange that I 
 should have treated him so unceremoniously," 
 said Mr. Mudge. 
 
 " O, it is of no consequence," replied Joseph. 
 u I shall never mention it when I get home." 
 
 " I can't get over it, though. Don Francesco, 
 you must be a man of infinite discernment to 
 nave seen through these youngsters." 
 
 " I was much aided by the discrimination of 
 my wife ; you know the ladies have a quicker 
 insight into character than we have," said ths 
 Don. 
 
120 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 u There you have the advantage over me. i 
 have never had time to pay my devours to the 
 ladies," said Mr. Mudge, with a piteous grimace. 
 4 Donna, I beg you to help yourself freely, and 
 help the lads. I '11 warrant they have had keen 
 appetites after their long starvation. Have n't 
 they ? " 
 
 The Donna actually blushed with embarrass- 
 ment at this singular question, and did not an- 
 swer it. 
 
 The visit was an amusing one, and yet by no 
 means agreeable, and they were glad when it was 
 time to return home. 
 
 The day at length arrived for the sailing of 
 the Sea-gull. The Don saw that every thing nice 
 and comfortable was provided, by way of cloth 
 ing and stores, for the voyage. 
 
 " And have you no parting request to make of 
 me, my young friend ? " inquired the Donna of 
 Frank ; affectionately taking his hand. 
 
 " I have two requests to make," replied he, 
 u one is that Don Francesco and the Donna 
 nake a voyage to the United States, and allow 
 my father the honor of receiving them at his 
 house, and me the pleasure of showing them 
 every thing worthy of observation in my native 
 city." 
 
IIOMEWAKD BOUND. 12^1 
 
 "It would give us the greatest pleasure,' 1 
 warmly replied the Donna, " for we have a 
 strong inducement to do so, now that we shall 
 have a particular friend there. But is there not 
 something that I can do for you ? " 
 
 " That is my second request ; pardon me if I 
 am too bold. I should like to possess that minia- 
 ture likeness of yourself, 1 ' replied Frank, point- 
 ing to a beautiful painting on ivory suspended 
 over the mantel-piece. " I shall never forget 
 your kindness, but I may not be able to retain 
 the exact impression of those features. Besides, 
 it resembles my dear mother, and henceforth 1 
 shall love to think of you together." 
 
 The Donna handed him the miniature, with- 
 out saying a word, but her eyes were full of tears. 
 
 Joseph had been practising, under Frank's 
 instruction, a farewell speech in French, and 
 really succeeded very well as he said, 
 
 "Don and Donna Rebeiro, I am exceedingly 
 obliged to you for your hospitable politeness. 
 My mother and sisters will bless you as long aa 
 they live, and I shall ever hold you in grateful 
 remembrance. Adieu." 
 
 " Let me hear from you both, by the earliest 
 possible opportunity," said the Don. 
 
122 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 " By all means," said Frank ; " my father will 
 be most happy to discharge his indebtedness to 
 you as soon as possible." 
 
 "No, my dear boy, not a word of that; I 
 insist that you and your friend do me the favor 
 never again to allude to this matter. On that 
 condition, alone, I promise to return your visit at 
 no distant day. Captain Harrison was quite in- 
 dignant at the oifer I made him with regard to 
 passage-money, saying, ' Things had come to a 
 pretty pass if a Yankee could not be as generous 
 as a Portuguese. I want company in my cabin, 
 and consider it a lucky chance to have two nice 
 young fellows with me.' He is a frank, noble- 
 hearted man, and I am quite easy to intrust you 
 to his care." 
 
 The parting words had all been said, and Jo- 
 seph and Frank were once more upon the waters. 
 
 Captain Harrison was a jovial sailor, and yet 
 a man of good morals, and good plain sense. 
 Nothing in his deportment showed that he was 
 doing a favor to his young passengers. 
 
 The voyage was rapid and free from storms. 
 In twelve days after leaving Fayal, land was in 
 sight. 
 
 u My own, my native land ! " exclaimed 
 Frank, with heartfelt enthusiasm. 
 
HOMEWARD BOUND. 123 
 
 4 * c*idll be sorry to part with you, Frank," 
 -said the captain, " If you ever go to sea again, 
 ship with me. I should like to see if you could 
 act the sailor as well as you do the gentleman. 
 And you, Brandon, I Ve given you some tough 
 lessons, hard enough to swallow, but I hope they 
 will do you good. But on the whole you have 
 made yourself agreeable ; you do play a first rate 
 game of chess." 
 
 " I trust I shall not be obliged to go to sea 
 again ; for my father, I am sure, will be unwilling 
 to part with me," replied Frank ; " but if I should, 
 I prefer you for my captain to any man I know." 
 
 " And so should I," said Joseph. " I do not 
 know how I shall ever repay you for your kind- 
 ness." 
 
 " Poh ! poh ! do n't say a word of that. I was 
 provoked to think that furrener should offer me 
 money for carrying home two shipwrecked 
 fellow-countrymen. I am afraid he judges us 
 all by that skinflint Mudge, but he is no more 
 like a genuine Yankee than a potato is like a 
 Connecticut pumpkin." 
 
 "Then you are a Connecticut man?" said 
 Frank. 
 
 "That I am," replied the captain, ' a true- 
 
124 HOMEWARD BOUND. 
 
 born Yankee, from Stonington, and proud to ac 
 knowledge it all the world over. I have seen a 
 great deal of this round earth, but I never saw 
 any thing to equal old Connecticut. Has n't every 
 body heard of her clocks, colleges, and common 
 schools? " 
 
 "And her wooden nutmegs," said Brandon. 
 
 " There now, Mr. Brandon," replied the cap- 
 tain, " you are not so much of a gentleman as 
 you might be. Frank Wood would have cut off 
 his little finger before he would have said that. 
 But there is no making a silken purse out of a 
 pig's ear." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, captain," exclaimed Jo- 
 seph. "I really did not think you could be so 
 sensitive about the honor of old Connecticut." 
 
 " It 's only because you are from the Bay 
 State, which happens to be a very little larger 
 The pardon is granted ; but, remember, never 
 jest about a man's wife to her husband, nor about 
 Connecticut to a Stonington man "; and the cap- 
 tain turned upon his heel and whistled Yankee 
 Doodle. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 HOME. 
 
 WITH a tirobbing heart, Frank Wood saw the 
 spires of New York rise out of the water. 
 
 The health officers came on board, and finding 
 (he Sea-gull had sailed from a port where there 
 was no prevailing malignant disease, and had had 
 no sickness .on board, the passengers were allow- 
 ed to land. 
 
 How anxiously Frank looked into every face 
 to recognize a familiar one among the crowd. 
 All were strangers, hurrying by, intent upon 
 their own business. No one knew or cared for 
 him. * 
 
 He left Brandon on board the vessel until he 
 should have seen his father and communicated to 
 him how closely he had been connected with his 
 friend, and how much Joseph had needed kind 
 aess. 
 
126 HOME. 
 
 As lie stood at the door of his own home, he 
 nardly dared to lay his hand upon the bell-knob. 
 It was at last pulled so faintly that its feeble sound 
 intimated a poor beggar -child, fearful of refusal 
 to a solicitation of charity. 
 
 The waiter who appeared a new servant in 
 the house evidently expected some such appli- 
 cation ; for he said, in a rough voice, " Well* fel- 
 low ! What 's wanted ! " 
 
 " My father," faintly articulated Frank. 
 
 " Your father ! there is no such person here." 
 
 " You must be mistaken." 
 
 " No, I am not, youngster. If your father ha*> 
 oeen here to consult the Doctor, he is not hero 
 now " ; and the waiter was about to close the 
 door. 
 
 But Frank, hearing the well-known voice of 
 that beloved relative, rushed by the servant and 
 ran up the stairs to the library, in spite of his 
 bawling, " Halloo, shipmate ! I tell you your 
 father is not in ttts house. The boy must be rav- 
 ing distracted." 
 
 Being disturbed by the noise, Dr. Wood step- 
 ped out of his library, and Frank stood before 
 him. 
 
 For a moment they both remained motionless 
 
HOME. 127 
 
 and speechless. The Doctor hardly believing his 
 own eyes ; Frank amazed at his father's pale 
 and haggard appearance. 
 
 At length Dr. Wood exclaimed, " Great God ! 
 ( thank thee!" and throwing his arms around 
 Frank's neck, pressed him to his grateful heart. 
 
 The sailors, who left the Sally Ann in the long- 
 boat, had been picked up by a homeward-bound 
 vessel, and Wd reached New York about a month 
 before the arrival of the Sea-gull ; bringing the 
 news that the captain, and four sailors, went 
 down with the wreck of that unfortunate vessel. 
 Dr Wood had made inquiry of one of these sail- 
 ors, and learned of him that Frank was among 
 the lost. 
 
 His grief at the melancholy death of his only 
 son was such as to have occasioned an illness 
 from which he was just recovering, and which 
 had left him with the extreme paleness that so 
 much alarmed Frank. He received his noble- 
 hearted Frank as one restored from the dead. 
 After an hour spent in conversation, as he looked 
 into the bright blue eyes, sparkling with pleasure, 
 and saw the fresh healthy countenance of Frank 
 his heart was overflowing with Christian grati 
 
128 HOME. 
 
 " Poor Brandon, I must go back to him, for he 
 'trill be impatient to see me," said Frank. 
 " And who is he ? " inquired Dr. Wood- 
 Frank briefly related the story of Joseph's suf- 
 ferings. His father told him to order the carriage 
 and bring him home with him immediately ; add* 
 ing, " Poor boys ! I suppose your luggage will 
 easily be transported." 
 
 Although Frank had prepared Joseph to expect 
 to see in his father a perfect gentleman, he was 
 struck with the elegance and dignity of Dr. Wood s 
 appearance ; and the cordial politeness with which 
 he received him put him at once entirely at 
 ease. 
 
 After two days spent very pleasantly in New 
 YorK, Brandon began to be extremely anxious to 
 see his mother and sisters. Frank went with him 
 to make arrangements for his journey home. 
 
 The morning came on which he was to leave. 
 Frank had been so faithful and persevering in his 
 kindness to Joseph, that he had become much 
 attached to him. It is a principle in our na- 
 ture to love whatever we bestow kindness upon ; 
 even 
 
 u The bird that we nurse, is the bird that we love." 
 
 Joseph, on his part, felt both gratitude and 
 
HOME. 129 
 
 affection towards his young friend. Though 
 younger than himself, he had looked up to him 
 for advice and example. By that example, he 
 had corrected his erroneous opinions with regard 
 to heing a gentleman. He saw that Frank was 
 very different from the ideal that his own mind 
 had furnished; yet, wherever he went, he was 
 recognized as a gentleman. He acknowledged to* 
 himself how much Frank's high moral principles 
 had contributed to this, and he very naturally 
 came to the conclusion that it was not best for 
 him any longer to be a gay, dissipated fop. 
 
 When Dr. Wood was about to part with Joseph, 
 he put into his hand a well-filled purse, saying, 
 " Mr. Brandon, I will not subject you to the 
 pain that an honorable, independent young man. 
 would feel at receiving pecuniary obligation- 
 Whenever it shall be perfectly convenient, you 
 can, if you like, repay me." 
 
 " Certainly, I shall be most happy to do so,'* 
 replied Joseph ; " I am greatly obliged to you t 
 Sir." 
 
 " I shall be in no haste for the money, and am 
 sure, in the course of a few years, you will have 
 saved more than that amount from your own 
 earnings. Keep up a constant correspondence 
 
130 HOME. 
 
 with Frank. It will be an advantage to both of 
 you, and whenever you can find leisure fron? 
 more important avocations, come and see us. 1 
 trust I shall be able, during the coming year, to 
 pay you a visit, with Frank, and make the ac- 
 quaintance of your mother and sisters." 
 
 When the boys parted, Frank said, " Do you 
 know Joseph, that this is my birthday ? " 
 
 " I did not." 
 
 4 It is ; I am just seventeen ; and I should be 
 perfectly happy were I not obliged to part with 
 you. But let us try to meet every year on this 
 anniversary, and then we shall be sure to keep 
 up our friendship." 
 
 Brandon's heart was so full that he could hard- 
 ly reply. He thought it unmanly to shed tears, 
 and brushed away the intruders from his eyes, 
 Tears that flow from gratitude are no mark of 
 weakness in man or woman ; to either, they are 
 the natural expression of genuine sensibility. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 ANOTHER MEETING. 
 
 BRANDON pursued his way homeward as fast a? 
 steamboats and locomotives could convey him; 
 yet, to his eager wishes, they seemed to move but 
 slowly. 
 
 When he reached Boston, the associations con- 
 nected with that place were painful and mortify- 
 ing. 
 
 " What a silly boy was I, to parade about these 
 streets, trying to make people think I was some- 
 body ! And what consequence was it what these 
 passing strangers thought of me ? O, it was too 
 ridiculous/' thought Joseph. 
 
 He now walked across the city quite uncon- 
 cernedly, in his sailor's dress, not fearing " the 
 world's dread laugh," and took passage in a 
 stagecoach for his native village. 
 
32 ANOTHER MEETING. 
 
 As he rode along, sad forebodings filled hia 
 heart. What changes might have taken place ! 
 As the well known spire of the village church 
 came in sight, it was impossible to restrain those 
 tears which appeared to have burst from a long 
 time sealed up fountain ; tears of penitence for 
 his undutifulness as a son, his unkindness as a 
 brother. They were as refreshing to the soul as 
 evening dew to the delicate flower. 
 
 Joseph alighted at the well known gate. The 
 roses were in full bloom ; the grass, fresh and 
 nicely cut ; every thing bore the air of comfort. 
 
 With a trembling hand he raised the latch, open- 
 ed the door, and walked into the parlour. It had 
 undergone an entire change ; not one familiar ob- 
 ject met his eye among the new and handsome 
 furniture that adorned the apartment. 
 
 A lady, an entire stranger, entered ; and, seeing 
 a sailor thus unceremoniously surveying the room, 
 she was about to scream with alarm, when Joseph, 
 very politely bowing, said, 
 
 " Excuse me, Madam, does riot Mrs. Brandon 
 live here ? " 
 
 " She does not," replied the lady ; " she has 
 removed to the small cottage on the other side of 
 the green." 
 
ANOTHER MEETING. 135 
 
 " Do you know if she and her family are well * *" 
 inquired Joseph, with a tremulous voice. 
 
 " Mrs. Brandon is well, I believe, but one of 
 her daughters has been very ill for some time 
 past," was the reply. 
 
 Joseph could scarcely articulate, "Which 
 one ? " 
 
 The lady did not know. Joseph hurried 
 across the green to the small cottage, knocked 
 at the door, and it was opened by Susan. 
 
 " Joseph ! Joseph ! " she screamed, and threw 
 her arms about his neck. 
 
 Immediately recovering from her surprise, she 
 motioned her brother to remain silent, and whis 
 pered in his ear, " Our dear Fanny is ill ; so 
 very ill that there is but little hope of her recov- 
 ery. Come in softly." 
 
 She led him into an humble little parlour, 
 where were crowded the familiar movables for 
 which he had looked in vain at his mother's own 
 house. Mrs. Brandon sat by the bedside of her 
 precious child, who seemed to be insensible. 
 She watched 
 
 " Her breathing soft and low, 
 As in her breast the wave of life 
 Kept heaving to and fro. 
 
134 ANOTHER MEETING. 
 
 Suddenly, the apparently dying girl started, 
 opened her eyes, and faintly articulated, 
 
 " I heard Susan call Joseph. Has he come 
 home ? " 
 
 " I will go and see, dearest," replied Mrs. 
 Brandon. 
 
 She hastened to the parlour. 
 
 " Mother ! " 
 
 It was all that Joseph could utter, but the 
 word came up from the depth of a penitent heart, 
 and volumes could not have expressed to that 
 mother all which the tone of voice conveyed. 
 Never, since she held her first-born an infant in 
 her arms, had such an appeal been made to her 
 love, the past was all forgiven. 
 
 Mrs. Brandon soon hastened back to Fanny. 
 
 u Mother, has brother indeed come home ? " 
 said the invalid. 
 
 " He has, Fanny. Do you wish to see him ? " 
 
 " I do, immediately, for I fear I shall remain 
 but a very short time." 
 
 Wasted by long illness, Fanny was but the 
 shadow of herself, pale even to ghastliness; 
 she seemed already to have approached the con- 
 fines of the world of spirits She reached out 
 her thin white hand to Joseph, and a lovely smile 
 passed over her wan face. 
 
ANOTHER MEETING. 135 
 
 "Fanny, my own sweet sister!" exclaimed 
 Ac, " forgive me ! I have not been a kind brothei 
 to you." 
 
 " I do not remember that I have any thing to 
 forgive," she replied, pressing his hand to her 
 lips. " I have not long to live, but since you are 
 restored to our mother and Susan, I shall die con- 
 tented. 
 
 " Do not speak of dying, Fanny ; I trust we 
 shall all live together happily many years," said 
 her brother. 
 
 " Just as it may please God," fervently and 
 solemnly said the lovely girl. " I am resigned to 
 his holy will." 
 
 From this time she began to recover. By that 
 wonderful sympathy * that exists between body and 
 
 * The celebrated Dr. Rush relates the following anec- 
 dote : "During the time that I passed at a country 
 school in Cecil county in Maryland, I often went, on a 
 holyday, with my schoolmates, to see an eagle's nest, up- 
 on the summit of a dead tree in the neighbourhood of 
 the school, during the incubation of the bird. The 
 daughter of the farmer in whose field the tree stood, and 
 with whom I became acquainted, married and settled in 
 this city (Philadelphia) about forty years ago. In our 
 occasional interviews, we now and then spoke of 'he in- 
 nocent haunts and rural pleasures of our youth, and 
 among others of the eagle's nest in her father's field. 
 
136 ANOTHER MEETING. 
 
 mind, no sooner was the latter relieved from the 
 weight of anxiety that had long pressed upon it, 
 than the physical system was equally relieved. 
 She was soon restored to perfect health. 
 
 A few years ago I was called to visit this woman when 
 die was in the lowest stage of typhus fever. Upon en- 
 cering the room 1 caught her eye, and with a cheerful 
 tone of voice said, only, ' The eagle's nest. 1 She seized 
 my hand, without being able to speak, and discovered 
 strong emotions of pleasure in her countenance, probably 
 from a sudden association of all her early enjoyments 
 With the words which I uttered. From that time she be- 
 gan to recover. She is now living, and seldom fails, 
 when we meet, to salute me with the echo of ' The ea- 
 gle's nest.' " 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 BETTER HOPES. 
 
 JOSEPH'S letter, from Marseilles, had nol 
 reached Mrs. Brandon, and not one word had 
 she heard from him during his absence. She 
 did not know even in what ship he had embark- 
 ed, and her anxiety for him had been unceas- 
 ing. 
 
 Soon after he left home, finding her affairs 
 much embarrassed, she leased her own pretty 
 house, and took the small cottage. In this way 
 she thought she should be able to pay off, in 
 time, the debts which Joseph's foolish extrava- 
 gance had left upon her hands. 
 
 Fanny had been a long time in delicate health, 
 and her illness was increased by the troubles that 
 had weighed down her youthful spirits. 
 
 Sorrow, and sympathy with her mother and 
 
138 BETTER HOPES. 
 
 Fanny, had softened the harshness of Susan's 
 character. 
 
 " Why, Sue," said Joseph, a few days after his 
 return, " I should scarcely know you ; really you 
 are much improved." 
 
 " I might say the same of yourself, Joseph," 1 
 was the reply. " I should hardly recognize your 
 former self in your conversation, unless when 
 you boast of that 6 famous French dinner-party,' 
 or speak grandiloquently of your great friends, - 
 the ' Don and Donna Francesco Rebeiro.' r 
 
 " I do not intend to speak boastingly ; I thank 
 you for the hint," he gently replied, " and hope 
 I shall profit by it. I am truly grateful to those 
 excellent people. I intend learning French and 
 Portugese as soon as possible, that I may con 
 verse with them whenever I visit them again. 1 
 used to feel like a complete simpleton when they 
 were all talking around, and I was not able to 
 understand a single sentence. I am going to set 
 myself about some employment whenever I have 
 an opportunity, that I may no longer be a bur- 
 den to our kind mother. I hope to relieve the 
 pressure that is upon her, so that she can go 
 back again to her own house." 
 
 "Bravely spoken, Joseph," said Susan, with a 
 Uttle of her former sarcastic manner. 
 
BETTER HOPES. 139 
 
 " A nd bravely, by God's help, shall it be done,' 5 
 warmly replied Joseph. 
 
 The purse that Joseph received from Dr. 
 Wood contained one hundred dollars, all of 
 which remained, excepting the amount of his fare 
 from New York. 
 
 The expenses of Fanny's illness had pressed 
 heavily upon Mrs. Brandon. Joseph told her of 
 the generous loan he had received, and insisted 
 that she should make use of half of it, while he 
 would carefully use the remainder until he found 
 some employment. 
 
 " I have been so entirely occupied since your 
 return," said Mrs. Brandon, " that I had quite 
 forgotten to tell you that your Uncle Jones has 
 removed to Boston, and that he is in want of a 
 clerk in his counting-house. Go to him next 
 week, and state your wishes and intentions, and 
 I will write to him at the same time. I have no 
 doubt you can have the place, if you wish to be 
 a merchant."" 
 
 " I wish for any honorable employment, 
 whereby I can maintain myself respectably, and 
 in time support you and my sisters in a comfort- 
 able manner," replied Joe ; " and as Fanny is so 
 much better, and I have already been, home a 
 fortnight, I will go, if you think best, to-morrow.' 
 
140 BETTER HOPES' 
 
 " I am sorry to part with you so soon, but per. 
 haps it would be well to go soon, as the place 
 may not long remain vacant. Shall you go in 
 your sailor dress ? " 
 
 " No, mother, I have another suit that I have 
 carefully kept. the gift of kind friends. How 
 many excellent people there are in the world 1 
 Yet I doubt if I should have experienced their 
 kindness had it not been for the unmistakable 
 good-breeding and gentleman-like deportment of 
 my friend, Frank Wood." 
 
 " I should like much to see that amiable Frank 
 Wood," said Fanny. " I wish to thank him for 
 his kindness to you." 
 
 " All in good time, Fanny dear," said Joseph. 
 u He has promised to make us an early visit," 
 
 The next morning Brandon started for Boston, 
 and rode on the outside of the stajrocoach with- 
 out quarrelling with his fellow-passengers, a 
 peaceable, well-behaved young man, intent upon 
 making every body as comfortable as possible. 
 
 His uncle, although he received him kindly, 
 looked somewhat askance at his gay foreign 
 dress, the one he had purchased at Fayal. 
 Joseph, observing it, said, " 1 hope, Sir, if you re- 
 ceive me into your counting-room, that I shall soon 
 
BETTER HOPES. 141 
 
 be able to purchase a more suitable dress than 
 this, which has such a foreign air." 
 
 " Such a foppish air," replied his uncle. 
 " You look like a paroquet." 
 
 " It is too foppish entirely, and I shall be right 
 glad to exchange it for one of American manu- 
 facture, and true Yankee plainness," said Jo- 
 seph. 
 
 " That you shall do very soon, if you succeed, 
 as I think you will. When can you begin ? " 
 
 " To-morrow, if you please, sir." 
 
 " Well, I like your promptness. The salary is 
 five hundred dollars a year. Be honest and faith- 
 ful, and another year I will add two hundred 
 more to it." 
 
 The morning -found Joseph seated among a 
 number of other clerks in a large counting-room. 
 At first, he was, of course, ignorant and awkward, 
 but so great was his desire for improvement that 
 he soon overcame all obstacles. 
 
 Faithful and honest he was, giving entire satis- 
 faction to his uncle, and gaining the good will of 
 all with whom he was associated. 
 
 The first present that Joseph made, from his 
 own salary, after he had remitted the hundred 
 <iol^ars to Dr. Wood, was a pretty purse to Fanny, 
 
142 BETTER HOPES. 
 
 with three five-dollar pieces shining through the 
 meshes. This was at the end of the first half 
 year. The correspondence between Frank and 
 himself had been sustained with undiminished in- 
 terest on both sides. He learned that Frank occa- 
 sionally heard from his foreign friends, and that 
 the Don and Donna expected soon to pay a visit 
 to the United States. 
 
.-\f. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIL 
 
 AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 
 
 So well had Joseph Brandon satisfied his em- 
 ployer that he promised to raise his salary, as he 
 had intimated at their first interview. During 
 the year which was now nearly at an end, he had 
 been so economical as to live within his income, 
 pay Dr. Wood, and make several presents to his 
 mother and sisters ; yet he had always dressed 
 with neatness, and bearded in a respectable fam- 
 
 ay- 
 
 The family who had taken his mother's house 
 wisneu to give it up, to remove to the city ; and 
 Joseph gladly persuaded his mother to return to 
 it again, promising to make up the difference be- 
 tween the rent and that of the small cottage. 
 
 Mrs, Brandon consented to do so. Susan aud 
 Fanny were delighted to return to their own 
 
144 AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 
 
 home, and still more so, because it was through 
 the generosity of their brother. They had just 
 become nicely settled when they received a visit 
 from Joseph, accompanied by Dr. Wood and 
 Frank. 
 
 It was Frank's eighteenth birthday. His 
 health, since his return, had remained perfectly 
 good; and having decided upon following his 
 father's profession, he had commenced his prepar- 
 atory studies. 
 
 The yarns that they had to spin, when they 
 found themselves tete-a-tete, were as long as 
 those with which they whiled away the lazy hours 
 on board ship. 
 
 'Have you heard from Louise La Tourette, 
 lately ? " inquired Joseph. " I perceive you still 
 wear her parting gift. A very sentimental motto, 
 ' Pensez a moi ! ' " 
 
 " Madame La Tourette wrote to me not long 
 since that they confidently expected a visit from 
 me. She was so kind as to say that Louise 
 would never forget her American friends," said 
 Frank. 
 
 " It is a pity that you were not a little old&r 
 when you became acquainted with Mademoiselle ," 
 responded Joseph. 
 
AN UNEXPECTED KESOLVE. 14> 
 
 Frank blushed deeply as he replied, " I am too 
 young to think much of such high concerns as 
 matrimony, if that is what you intimate ; yet I 
 must say, that if in after years I do enter into tha 
 condition, I hope my lady-love may resemble 
 your sweet sister Fanny." 
 
 "She could not resemble a better girl," was 
 Joseph's reply. Then, changing the subject ab- 
 ruptly, he said, " Frank, why was it that you 
 never lectured me on board ship ? You saw me 
 rough and rude as a bear, and far more disagree- 
 able ; yet you led me gently to follow your exam- 
 ple. I have often thought of it with wonder, how 
 you could have gained such an irresistible influ- 
 ence over me. That Temperance pledge that I 
 gave you I have scrupulously kept, and it has 
 doubtless saved me from immense evils. Was I 
 not a constant source of mortification to you on 
 shore ? " 
 
 " Not quite so bad as that, Joseph." 
 
 " Well, Frank, I have given up all idea of be- 
 ing a gentleman, as I then understood the word, 
 and shall be quite contented if I can become what 
 I once despised, a respectable man." 
 
 u T have no doubt, Joseph, that you will become 
 
146 AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 
 
 both in time. If it is not an impertinent question, 
 how old is your sister Fanny ? " 
 
 " Sixteen, sweet sixteen." 
 
 Dr. Wood was much pleased with the Brandonsi 
 and invited them all to pay him a visit in New 
 York, whenever Don Francesco and his lady ar- 
 rived. 
 
 It was not many weeks after their return home 
 that the good Doctor and Frank wrote to announce 
 their arrival. Mr. Jones gave Joseph permis- 
 sion to accompany his mother and sisters to New 
 York. 
 
 The Don and Donna were agreeably surprised 
 to hear Joseph address them in French and Por- 
 tuguese. He had so diligently applied himself tu 
 the study of these languages during his leisure 
 hours, that he already spoke them with some fa- 
 cility. 
 
 Frank Wood's good opinion of Fanny did not 
 suffer on a more intimate acquaintance. He 
 was delighted to hear the Donna say that she hal 
 the most charming smile and the most dove-like 
 eyes that she ever saw. He was almost as much 
 pleased when she spoke of Joseph's improve 
 rnent. 
 
 "My father," said Frank, " thinks he will 
 
AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 147 
 
 make one of the most respectable merchants in 
 Boston, And allow me to tell you that it is say- 
 ing a great deal, for there are no more polished 
 gentlemen in our country than some of the Boston 
 merchants." 
 
 " I like him exceedingly, and hope he will soon 
 pay us another visit," said the Donna. 
 
 " He may possibly no so. for Mr. Jones intends 
 sending him to Europe on business. I should 
 not be surprised if Madame and Mademoiselle 
 La Tourette should not recognize him, he is so 
 much improved since ' that famous French din- 
 ner.'" 
 
 " Did I not hear you speak of Mademoiselle La 
 Tourette ? " inquired Joseph, who had caught the 
 sound of her name. 
 
 " I said, Joseph, that she would scarcely rec- 
 ognize you ; so much have you changed of 
 late." 
 
 " Then I must beg your ring, to serve as a tal- 
 isman when I shall see her again. Will you give 
 it to me ? I am going to Marseilles before many 
 months." 
 
 " Certainly, if you wish it," replied Frank, tak- 
 ing it from his finger. " I hope you will wear 
 it at another famous French dinner-party." 
 
14S AN UNEXPECTED RESOLVE. 
 
 " O, better than that," replied his friend, press- 
 ing the ring upon his little finger. " I hope it 
 may be worn at the famous wedding-party of Mrs. 
 Joseph Brandon." 
 
 After a few weeks spent in seeing whatever 
 New York affords to interest a stranger, the Bran- 
 dons returned home. The Don and Donna accom- 
 panied them to Boston, and then pursued their 
 journey through the United States. 
 
 Brandon returned to his counting-room, with 
 a firmer resolution than ever to be an honorable 
 and upright merchant, and a Christian gentle- 
 man. 
 
 THE FN C 
 
THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE 
 STAMPED BELOW 
 
 RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE 
 RECALL 
 
 JUN 1 3 1967 
 
N2 464417 
 
 PS3111 
 
 Tuthill, L.C.H. T5 
 I will be a gentleman. 18 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 DAVIS 
 
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