“Well, but I have an excellent education. I can write like copper-plate. I am a fair hand at figures, and well up in Latin and Greek; and—”
“Ha! ha! ha!” Captain Vesey laughed aloud. “Latin and Greek, eh? You must keep that to yourself, boy.”
“And,” continued Archie boldly, “I have a whole lot of capital introductions. I’m sure to get into a good office in Sydney; and in a few years—”
Archie stopped short, because by the light that streamed from the skylight he could see that Captain Vesey was looking at him half-wonderingly, but evidently amused.
“Go on,” said the captain.
“Not a word more,” said Archie doggedly.
“Finish your sentence, lad.”
“I shan’t. There!”
“Well, I’ll do it for you. You’ll get into a delightful office, with mahogany writing-desks and stained glass windows, Turkey carpet and an easy-chair. Your employer will take you out in his buggy every Sunday to dine with him; and after a few years, as you say, he’ll make you a co-partner; and you’ll end by marrying his daughter, and live happy ever after.”
“You’re laughing at me, sir. I’ll go down below.”