“Won’t trust you,” said the captain. “Hallo, Bruff!” he continued, patting the rough head of a great retriever dog which had just come slouching into the room, carrying the said rough head hanging down as if it were too heavy for its body, an idea endorsed by its act of laying it upon the captain’s knee. “Is it you who teaches your young master to be so obstinate?”
The dog uttered a low growl as if of protest.
“Perhaps you’d like me to take you for a voyage, old chap,” continued the captain, pausing in his smoking to wipe the corners of the dog’s eyes with its ears. “You’d look well sea-sick in a corner of the deck, or swung in a hammock.”
Bruff showed the whites of his expressive eyes and uttered a dismal howl.
“Don’t be afraid, old fellow,” said the captain. “I sha’n’t take you, nor your master neither, so you may both make the best of it.”
“Don’t say that, father,” said Mark earnestly. “Take me this once. I do so want to see China!”
“Here, mother,” said the captain laughing; “take Mark up stairs and show him your best tea-service, the one I brought home last year. Like to see Japan, too, my lad?”
Mark frowned and bent his head over his book, while Mrs Strong shook her head at her husband.
The captain rose once more, and laid his hand upon his son’s shoulder.
“Come, come, my lad, don’t fret over it,” he said; “you have done well, and I should like to give you a treat, but I can’t take you to Hong-Kong for many reasons. Your mother would not like it, I shouldn’t like it, and it would do you no good.”