“You wouldn’t! what are you made of? You are cowlder than a frozen brickbat! What’s the rayson you won’t go?” inquired the lieutenant.
“I’ll tell you why. My father died worth only about five thousand dollars. My mother kept this money for me; and she took care of me with only an income of three hundred and fifty dollars a year. She asked my uncle for a little help, and he took no notice of her letter. This was a year before she died, and she wanted to send me to college. Then she went to see him, thinking he might not have got the letter. He put her off for a time; but he finally told her he would do nothing for her. I never went to see him after that, though he often sent for me. He did not like my mother, and he never invited her to his house.
“After my mother died, I made up my mind that I wanted to go to sea, and work my way up to be captain of a ship. My mother’s brother was my guardian, and he consented to use my little fortune in paying my expenses in this institution. Now I am here; and I have just got waked up as I never was before. At one bound, I have become first master of the Tritonia. I like the berth; and I am going to do a great deal better than I have yet. Now, do you think I will leave this high place in the vessel at the call of one I don’t care a straw about? I never even saw Judge Rodwood, though I have heard enough about him.”
“He may be your guardian under the will.”
“I don’t care if he is: I have only one guardian that I know any thing about, and that’s my uncle on my mother’s side. I like this situation too well to leave it,” continued Tom, independent as a basket of chips.
“But the money?” suggested O’Hara.
“I don’t know that my rich uncle has left me any money; and, in fact, I don’t care if he has. I have not quite forgiven him for refusing to help my mother.”
“You might take his money, whether you forgive him or not.”
“Now he is dead, I am willing to forgive him; but I don’t ask any favors of him or his estate.”
“Faix, you are moighty indepindint.”