I stopped short.
“Well, what?”
“Less talking there,” said Mr Rebble.
“Mind your own business,” muttered my neighbour. “What did he say you’d grow into?”
“A milksop; and that I must come and rough it among other boys.”
“Ha! ha! what a game! You will have to rough it too, here. I say, who’s uncle?”
“My uncle, Colonel Seaborough.”
“What’s he?—a soldier too?”
“Yes; and I’m going to be a soldier by and by.”
“Well, you are a lucky one! Wish I had an uncle who said I should be a soldier. I shall have to be a doctor, I suppose.”