"A Belton!" groaned the admiral, "and says he is a coward." "A boy to be a sailor ought to be fond of the sea." "Of course, sir," said the captain. "And I hate it." "And pray why?" said the admiral, fiercely. "Because it's so salt," said Syd, busy helping himself to some more of the condiment he had named. "Salt?" cried the admiral. "Of course it is, and so it ought to be. Nonsense! He's laughing at us, Harry--a dog." "No, I'm not, uncle; I'm not fit to be a sailor." "Then, pray, what are you fit for, sir?" cried Captain Belton, angrily. "I mean to be a doctor!" "What!" roared the two officers together. _Crack! crack_! "Put that walnut and those crackers down, sir!" said the captain, sternly. "I am glad your uncle started this subject, for it was time we had an explanation. Do you know that with his interest at the Admiralty and mine you could be entered on board a first-rate man-of-war?" "Yes, and well looked after, sir," cried the admiral; "so that when you had properly gone through your term, and been master's mate long enough, your promotion would have been certain." "Yes, uncle, father has often said so," replied Sydney, reaching for another walnut, and taking up the crackers. "Put that walnut down, sir," cried his father. Sydney obeyed, and to keep his hands under control thrust them in his pockets and leaned back in his chair. "Well, sir," said his uncle, "does not that make you feel proud?" "No, uncle." "What! Don't you know that you would have a uniform and wear a sword--I mean a dirk?" "Yes, uncle." "Well, sir? Why, at your time of life I was mad to have my uniform." "What for?" said the boy. "What for, sir? What for? Why, to wear, of course." "I don't want to wear a uniform. You couldn't climb trees, nor go fishing, nor shrimping, nor riding in a uniform." "No, sir," continued the admiral, after winking and frowning at his brother to leave the boy to him, "of course not. You would be an officer and a gentleman then, and wear a cocked hat." "Ha! ha! ha!" The boy burst into a hearty fit of laughter, and his father frowned. "Sydney--" he began. "No, no, Harry, leave him to me," said the admiral; "I'll talk to him. Now, sir," he continued, turning to the boy sternly, "pray what did I say to make you start grinning like a confounded young monkey? I--I--I am not accustomed to be laughed at by impertinent boys." "I was not laughing at you, uncle," said the boy, dragging one hand from his pocket and making a lunge at an apple. "Leave that fruit alone, sir," said the admiral, "and don't tell me a confounded lie, sir. You did laugh at me." "I did not," said the boy; "and that's not a lie." "What!" roared the admiral, turning purple. "How dare you, sir! To the mast-head at once, and stop there till--" A hearty burst of laughter from his brother and nephew quelled the old man's anger.