The Pirate, and The Three Cutters

by Frederick Marryat

'"Why, uncle, next April, now—I think that would do."

'"Next April! Eleven months, and a winter between. Suppose Miss Percival was to take a cold and die."

'"I should be excessively obliged to her," thought William.

'"No, no!" continued Mr. Ponsonby: "there is nothing certain in this world, William."

'"Well then, uncle, suppose we arrange it for the first hard frost."

'"We have had no hard frosts lately, William. We may wait for years. The sooner it is over the better. Go back to town, buy your horse, and then come down here, my dear William, to oblige your uncle—never mind the dog-days."

'"Well, sir, if I am to make a sacrifice, it shall not be done by halves; out of respect for you I will even marry in July, without any regard to the thermometer."

'"You are a good boy, William. Do you want a cheque?"

'"I have had one to-day," thought William, and was almost at fault. "I shall be most thankful, sir—they sell horseflesh by the ounce nowadays."

'"And you pay in pounds. There, William."