Master Ranty having displayed, during his rapid career at college, sundry “fast” tendencies, was sent to sea to take the nonsense out of him. That young gentleman bore his fate with most exemplary patience and resignation, affirming that he always had a strong partiality for bilge-water and short allowance, and rather liked the cat-o’-nine-tails than otherwise.
Great was the delight of the worthy admiral, his uncle, when he heard of his nephew’s destination; and it was partially through his influence that, some months after, Ranty, radiant in blue roundabout and bright brass buttons, stood on the deck of the Sea Nymph, and wrote his name, in tremendous capitals, as “Randolph Lawless, U. S. N.”
“Now remember, Minnie, you mustn’t go and fall in love with anybody else,” were his parting words; “if you do, I’ll knock all creation into everlasting smash; I’ll hurl the whole universe into the regions of space; I’ll set fire to every blessed one of the United States, and bring all the world and Nebraska Territory to universal ruination!”
Duly impressed by these appalling and blood-chilling threats, Erminie dutifully promised not to “go and fall in love with anybody else;” and Mr Lawless, transformed into a dashing middy, gave his friends at home his blessing, and set off on his first voyage.
Ray, who, even in his boyhood, had displayed great talent in legal matters, was now, by the kindness of the admiral, in New York city, studying law.
Erminie, too, was absent from home now. Having completely captivated the heart of the generous and eccentric Admiral Havenful, as she did that of most others, he set about thinking, one day, what was the best means to display his affection. Just then he recollected her fondness for learning, and the few opportunities she had to indulge that fondness; and jumping up, he struck the table a vigorous blow, exclaiming:
“I’ll send her to school! Pet learns all them heathenish foreign languages, and makes a noise on that big sea-chest of a piano, and so shall little Snowdrop. I’ll send her to school this very day!—shiver my timbers if I don’t!”
And on the spur of the moment, the admiral, with many a doleful grunt, dumped himself on old Ringbone’s back, and jogged over the heath to the cottage.
There he made his proposal to Erminie, whose sweet blue eyes lit up at first with joy and gratitude; then came the thought of Ketura, now a helpless cripple, unable to leave her room, and her countenance fell, and the joyful light faded from her face.
“I am very sorry, but I cannot leave my grandmother,” was her sad reply.