After this, as you may fancy, I left this disgusting establishment, and lived for some time along with pa and mamma at home. My education was finished, at least mamma and I agreed that it was; and from boyhood until hobbadyhoyhood (which I take to be about the sixteenth year of the life of a young man, and may be likened to the month of April when spring begins to bloom)--from fourteen until seventeen, I say, I remained at home, doing nothing--for which I have ever since had a great taste--the idol of my mamma, who took part in all my quarrels with father, and used regularly to rob the weekly expenses in order to find me in pocket-money. Poor soul! many and many is the guinea I have had from her in that way; and so she enabled me to cut a very pretty figure. Papa was for having me at this time articled to a merchant, or put to some profession; but mamma and I agreed that I was born to be a gentleman and not a tradesman, and the army was the only place for me. Everybody was a soldier in those times, for the French war had just begun, and the whole country was swarming with militia regiments. “We'll get him a commission in a marching regiment,” said my father. “As we have no money to purchase him up, he'll FIGHT his way, I make no doubt.” And papa looked at me with a kind of air of contempt, as much as to say he doubted whether I should be very eager for such a dangerous way of bettering myself. I wish you could have heard mamma's screech when he talked so coolly of my going out to fight! “What! send him abroad, across the horrid, horrid sea--to be wrecked and perhaps drowned, and only to land for the purpose of fighting the wicked Frenchmen,--to be wounded, and perhaps kick--kick--killed! Oh, Thomas, Thomas! would you murder me and your boy?” There was a regular scene. However, it ended--as it always did--in mother's getting the better, and it was settled that I should go into the militia. And why not? The uniform is just as handsome, and the danger not half so great. I don't think in the course of my whole military experience I ever fought anything, except an old woman, who had the impudence to hallo out, “Heads up, lobster!”--Well, I joined the North Bungays, and was fairly launched into the world.