“The very thing for him!” said the doctor approvingly. “I don’t think you could ever turn him into a parson, Vernon. He has too much animal spirits for that; think of my gig, ho! ho!”
Overcome by the many arguments brought forward, and the general consensus of judgment in favour of the project, the vicar at last consented that Teddy might be allowed to go to sea under the aegis of Uncle Jack, who started off at once to London to see about the shipping arrangements; when the rest of the household set to work preparing the young sailor’s outfit in the meantime, so that no time might be lost—little Cissy making him a wonderful anti-macassar, which, in spite of all ridicule to the contrary, she asserted would do for the sofa in his cabin!
Of course, Jupp and Mary came over to wish Teddy good-bye; but, albeit there was much grief among the home circle at the vicarage when they escorted him to the little railway-station, on the day he left there were not many tears shed generally at his going, for, to paraphrase not irreverently the words of the Psalmist, “Endleigh, at heart, was glad at his departing, and the people of the village let him go free!”
Chapter Nine.
At Sea.
“Well, here we are, my hearty!” said Uncle Jack, who was on the watch for him at London Bridge station, and greeted him the moment the train arrived; “but, come, look sharp, we’ve a lot to do before us, and precious little time to do it in!”
Teddy, however, was not inclined at first to “look sharp.”
On the contrary, he looked extremely sad, being very melancholy at leaving home, and altogether “down in the mouth,” so to speak.