“Well—such a family; but he was looking at me; and I know he will give me the appointment; and I shall sail in his ship—you’ll see. And when I get to the Mediterranean, I’ll tell you what I’ll do—I shall kill a shark all my own self!” “A shark in the Mediterranean!” “Well, why shouldn’t they get in by the Straits of Magellan? Oh! is that the other place? Well, never mind—I’ll shoot the shark.” “Stuff, Hal!” said Sam rather gruffly. Hal went off on another tack. “Well, at least he has set me down by this time; and Papa will have me up to London for my outfit.” “I hope you will have leave, and come and see us,” said Annie. “I’ll try; but, you see, I shall be an officer on duty, and I dare say Admiral Penrose will hardly be able to spare me; but I’ll send you all presents out of my pay.” “You’ll spend all your pay on yourself,” said David. “Out of my prize-money then.” “You can’t get prize-money without a war,” said Elizabeth. “Oh! don’t let there be a war!” cried Susan. “Yes, but there is!” said Harry in a tremendous tone; and as Miss Fosbrook held up her hands, “at least there was one in the Black Sea; and I know there was a battle in the newspaper—at least, Mr. Carey read about Palermo.” “I don’t think Garibaldi in Sicily will put much prize-money into your pocket, Hal,” said Miss Fosbrook. “Oh! but there’s sure to be a war! and I shall get promoted, and be a man before any of you. I shall go about, and see condors, and lions, and elephants, and wear a sword—at least, a dirk—while you are learning Latin and Greek at Uncle John’s!” “Don’t make such a noise about it!” said Sam crossly. “I don’t know why you should be the one to go,” said Elizabeth. “Sam is the eldest.” “Yes; but Sam is such a slow-coach. Papa said I was the only one fit to make a sailor of—at least, he said I was smart, and—Hollo! Sam, I won’t have you kicking my legs!” “Don’t keep up such a row then!” growled Sam; but Hal was in too full swing to be reached by slight measures. He pushed his chair back, tucked up his feet like a tailor’s, out of reach, and went on: “Then I shall come home in my cocked hat, like Papa’s—at least, my cap—and come and ask for a holiday for you all at Uncle John’s.” Uncle John was an under-master at one of the great public schools, and the children were all a good deal in awe of him. “Uncle John won’t give one for _you_!” said Sam. “Come, boys, I can’t have this bickering,” said Miss Fosbrook. “I can’t see you trying which can be most provoking. Stand up. Now, David, say grace. There, Annie, finish that bit of bread out of doors. Go out, and let us have no more of this.”