"I don't expect to gain anything by it," replied Tony. "I only want to get through my school-days with as little trouble and work as I can. I shall be glad when they are over."
"And you want to get through life in the same way, I suppose?" said his father.
"No, sir; I am willing to work, and I should like to begin to-morrow. I want to go to sea."
"Anthony, you might as well give up that idea first as last. You will never go with my consent. I don't see what put that notion into your head. You have about as clear an idea of what would be required of you on shipboard as you have of the duties of a book-keeper."
"Will you let me do the next best thing, then? Will you let me go on the river?"
"No, indeed. I want to see you something better than a steamboat man."
"I should really like to know what you want me to be, anyhow," said Tony, with some impatience.
"I want to see you a respected member of society, for one thing," said his father. "I hope you will not think that your school-days are over until you have been through college. That was one thing I missed, for I began life poor; but I don't want you to miss it. I can see now how advantageous such training would have been to me. Get your education first, and decide upon your life-work afterwards."
"But I don't want to go to college," said Tony; "and I won't, either," he added, in an undertone. "I am not going to study myself to death for the sake of reading Greek and Latin. I don't want to go to school any longer," he said, aloud. "I had the best notion in the world to pack up my books to-night and take them home with me."
"That would have been a useless waste of strength and time on your part, for on Monday morning you would have had the pleasure of packing them up again and taking them back with you," said Mr. Richardson, bringing the iron ferule of his heavy cane down upon the sidewalk with more than his usual energy. "I believe I shall have something to say in regard to your conduct for at least five years to come."