His uncle chose his ship, and sent him away round the Cape in a good old-fashioned sailing vessel. And his uncle went to Glasgow to see him off, his last words being, "Keep up your heart, boy, whatever happens; and keep calm in every difficulty. Good-bye."
Away sailed the ship, and away went Archie to see the cities that are paved with gold, and whose houses have roofs of solid silver.
Book II.
CHAPTER I.
"SPOKEN LIKE HIS FATHER'S SON."
"Cheer, boys, cheer, no more of idle sorrow,
Courage, true hearts shall bear us on our way;
Hope flies before, and points the bright to-morrow,
Let us forget the dangers of to-day."
That dear old song! How many a time and oft it has helped to raise the drooping spirits of emigrants sailing away from these loved islands, never again to return!
The melody itself too is such a manly one. Inez dear, bring my fiddle. Not a bit of bravado in that ringing air, bold and all though it is. Yet every line tells of British ardour and determination—ardour that no thoughts of home or love can cool, determination that no danger can daunt.
"Cheer, boys, cheer." The last rays of the setting sun were lighting up the Cornish cliffs, on which so few in that good ship would ever again set eyes, when those around the forecastle-head took up the song.
"Cheer, boys, cheer." Listen! Those on the quarterdeck join in the chorus, sinking in song all difference of class and rank. And they join, too, in that rattling "Three times three" that bids farewell to England.