Others had tried and had slid back defeated amidst much laughter. I gave a running leap, however, and clutched the pole a man's height from the ground. My fingers and feet managed to find cracks and crevices. My knees stuck. It may have been that the dirt and sand in which I had taken the precaution to roll before making the attempt enabled my arms and legs to overcome the grease, or perhaps it was because those who had tried first had worn most of it away. From whatever reason, I continued to climb, rubbing the outer part of my sleeve over the pole as I advanced, so that more of the grease was removed from my path. At last, amidst cheers, I reached the peak of the pole, seized the gilt-laced hat, donned it--although it fell down over my ears--and slid to the ground in triumph. SEA LONGINGS "If you can climb masts as well as you can climb poles," said Alexander, "there's no doubt that you'll be a fine sailorman!" "He'll do no mast-climbing!" said Dr. Eccleston. "One sailor in the family is enough. His climbing will be confined to the steps of a pulpit. I am training him for the ministry!" Alexander looked at me quizzically. I winked at him. He and I had agreed from childhood that ours should be a seafaring life. My brother had boldly carried out his intention to follow father's example, but I, seeing that the rector had set his heart upon my adopting a shore career, had postponed making my declaration. I was immensely fond of the rector; I did not care to be the means of bringing further sadness to him, so I bided my time. Commodore Barney heard the rector rebuke Alexander and saw my wink. Bless me, behind the minister's back, he winked too. He had told me that, when the United States began to build her navy, he expected to obtain a place for me on a frigate. "America's prosperity on the sea is just beginning," he said. "Don't turn your back on your natural calling. One voyage in a privateer in one of the wars that are on the horizon will make your fortune. I'll take you to sea with me. Let the dominie look elsewhere for his recruits!" The rector and the commodore were great comrades, but on the subject of a career for me they never agreed. Commodore Barney had been a hero to Alexander and myself as far back as we could remember. He was a part of our lives from the first--an unofficial second guardian. I have heard him declare that he was on his way to our house to adopt us when he met the rector coming out with one of us clinging to each hand. Dr. Eccleston had told him then, the commodore stated, that a seafaring man was no fit guardian for children.