“That’s right, youngster! There’s no good to be got by despairing over things, and remember, you can have another try, you know, if you fail now,” said he encouragingly. “‘Never say die,’ you know, as an old friend of mine used always to say, ‘care once killed a cat!’”
“Why, sir,” I exclaimed at this, “that’s what my father always tells me. It’s his favourite expression when any difficulty arises. He never gives in, sir!”
“Indeed!” said the fat gentleman, while the others on either side of him looked interested. “Who is your father, my boy, if you’ll excuse my asking you the question?”
“Francis Vernon,” I answered promptly. “A captain in the Royal Navy, now on half-pay, sir.”
The fat clergyman laughed at my laconic reply.
“Vernon, ha!” he repeated after me. “I wonder if he is the Frank Vernon I once knew?”
“Can’t say, sir,” said I, cautiously. “My mother, though, always calls him ‘Frank.’”
My new friend laughed again.
“Ah, I’m sure he is the same, if only from your manner, which is just like what I remember in the Frank Vernon who was in the Pelican with me,” said he, looking at me all over with his twinkling round eyes. “Was your father ever up the Mediterranean with old Charley Napier, my boy?”
“Oh yes, sir,” I replied, glib enough now. “It was Admiral Napier who gave me my nomination the other day, sir.”