I think that the Admiral knew there was gladness in the children’s eyes, for he suddenly hopped high up the hill, and did a dance that would have delighted the heart of a Pawnee Indian.
“No,” said Miss Scragley that same day after dinner, as she and her friends sat out in the great veranda, “one doesn’t exactly know, Mr Davies, how to benefit children like these.”
The parson placed the tips of his fingers together meditatively, and looked down at Miss Scragley’s beautiful setter.
“Of course,” he said, slowly and meditatively, “teaching is essential to their bodily as well as to their spiritual welfare.”
“Very prettily put, Mr Davies,” said Miss Scragley; “don’t you think so, Dr Fairincks?”
“Certainly, Miss Scragley, certainly; and I was just wondering if they had been vaccinated. I’d get the little one into a home, and the boy sent to a Board school. And the father—drinks rum, eh?—get him into the house. Let him end his days there. What should you propose, Weathereye?”
“Eh? Humph! Do what you like with the little one. Send the boy to school—a school for a year or two where he’ll be flogged twice a day. Hardens ’em. So much for the bodily welfare, parson. As to the spiritual, why, send him to sea. Too young, Miss Scragley? Fiddlesticks! Look at me. Ran away to sea at ten. In at the hawse-hole, in a manner o’ speaking. Just fed the dogs and the ship’s cat at first, and emptied the cook’s slush-bucket. Got buffeted about a bit, I can tell you. When I went aft, steward’s mate kicked me for’ard; when I got for’ard, cook’s mate kicked me aft. No place of quiet and comfort for me except swinging in the foretop with the purser’s monkey. But—it made a man of me. Look at me now, Miss Scragley.”
Miss Scragley looked.
“Staff-commander of the Royal Navy. Three stripes. Present arms from the sentries, and all that sort of thing. Ahem!”