“I was thinking of that as I came down from town, Prescott,” Frank said, disconsolately; “and upon my word I don’t see what I am fit for. I write a rascally bad hand, and I am sure no one would take me as a clerk; I couldn’t do anything in the literary line, to save my life, I can pull an oar you know; but then, fellows must be apprenticed before they can be watermen. Upon my word, the only thing I can see for myself,” he said, ruefully, “is to go into the ring. I fancy there ain’t above one or two men I couldn’t hold my own with.” “A prizefighter, Frank! For shame! How dare you talk of such a thing?” Katie said, indignantly. “He is only joking, Kate,” Prescott said, although he saw that Frank had been half in earnest. “He is laughing at himself and us.” “Yes, I suppose it would not do,” Frank said, with half a sigh; “but upon my word it is about all I am fit for.” “You see, Arthur, if Frank could get any little thing to do here, I could help. I could give lessons in, singing. Besides, I can work very well. I am a wonderful hand at bonnets.” “You are a wonderful goose,” Frank broke in, seizing her and taking her from her chair on to his knees in his own easy chair, and checking her remonstrances with “Do as you are told, Katie, Prescott won’t mind.” “Frank, I am really ashamed of you. I shall go away. I will, Frank; please let me go.” “Not a bit of it, Katie. Here you are, and here you remain. Now, Prescott, please go on. It is agreed Katie is to give singing lessons, and I am to stay at home and nurse baby.” “Frank, that is unkind,” Katie said, with the tears in her eyes. “Why should I not have the pleasure of helping too?” “My own Katie,” Frank said. “If the worst comes to the worst, you shall help; but I hope that we shall hit on something better than that. Your proper work will be quite as hard, my pet; what with baby and me you will have quite enough to do. I am afraid I shall be the most troublesome of the two. Now, Prescott, have you anything else to propose?” “Nothing definite, Frank; but if I were in your place, with your strength and energy, and with such a brave-hearted wife to back me and help me, I should emigrate. I am afraid there is no sort of profession here for which you are fitted, but you are just the man to get on out there. A man who is strong and active, and is willing to turn his hand to anything, is safe to get on; and no kind of work is considered dishonouring out there.” “By Jove, Prescott, that would be just the thing for me, but it would be a rough life for poor Kate.” “Not rougher for me than for you, Frank. Besides, you know that I could really help you out there.” “I should think so, Kate; still I think if we really do make up our minds to it, it would be better for me to go out first to make a home for you, Katie—a rough home, dear, but still a home—and for you to stay for a little while with the Drakes.”