"If you care for the boy's future," said the letter, "do not let him go to sea. Places in the king's navy are not easy to obtain. If he begins as a sailor, he will never be aught else."
The letter convinced George's mother—it half convinced his brothers—that this going to sea would be a sad mistake. But George, like other boys of his age, was headstrong. He would not listen to reason. A sailor he would be.
The ship was in the river waiting for him. A boat had come to the landing to take him on board.
The little chest which held his clothing had been carried down to the bank. George was in high glee at the thought of going.
"Good-bye, mother," he said.
He stood on the doorstep and looked back into the house. He saw the kind faces of those whom he loved. He began to feel very sad at the thought of leaving them.
"Good-bye, George!"
He saw the tears welling up in his mother's eyes. He saw them rolling down her cheeks. He knew now that she did not want him to go. He could not bear to see her grief.
"Mother, I have changed my mind," he said. "I will not be a sailor. I will not leave you."
Then he turned to the black boy who was waiting by the door, and said,
"Run down to the landing and tell them not to put the chest on board.
Tell them that I have thought differently of the matter and that I am
going to stay at home."