“Ha—ha—ha—ha!”
It was a broad, honest, hearty laugh, such as a sturdy Englishman who is in the habit of using his lungs indulges in; and as Mark Strong’s brow wrinkled, and he felt irritated at being laughed at, his father thrust him back into his chair.
“I’m not laughing at you, my boy,” he said; “but at your notion—the common one, that a sailor who goes all round the world is always seeing wonderful sights.”
“Well, my dear,” said Mrs Strong, taking her son’s part, “you know you have seen strange things.”
As she spoke her eyes ran over the decorations of their handsomely-furnished room in the old-fashioned house in old-fashioned Hackney, where there were traces of the captain’s wanderings in the shape of stuffed birds of gorgeous plumage, shells of iridescent tints, masses of well-bleached corals, spears and carven clubs from New Zealand, feather ornaments from Polynesia, boomerangs and nulla-nullas from Australia, ostrich eggs from the Cape, ivory carvings from China, a hideous suit of black iron armour from Japan, and carpets and rugs from India and Persia to make snug the floor.
“Strange things, wife! Well, of course I have a few. A man can’t be at sea thirty years without seeing something; but, generally speaking, a sailor’s life is one of terrible monotony. He is a seaman, and he sees the sea day after day—day after day; rough seas and smooth seas, stormy seas and sunny seas; and enough to do to keep his ship afloat and away from rocks and lee shores. Here, what are you opening your eyes and mouth for in that way, Mark? Do you expect I’m going to tell you about the sea-serpent?”
“No, father,” said the lad laughing. “It was because what you said was so interesting.”
“Interesting! Nonsense! A sailor’s is a wearisome life, full of dangers.”
“But you see strange countries, father, and all their wonders.”
“No, I do not, boy,” said the captain half angrily, “A sailor sees nothing but his ship, and she’s all anxiety to him from the time he goes aboard till he comes back. We see strange ports, and precious little in them. Why, Mark, if you were in some places on the other side of the world, you’d find everything so English that you would hardly believe you had left home. No, no, my lad. You be content to get on well with your studies, and some day we’ll make a doctor or a lawyer of you. Soldier, if you like, but not a sailor.”