A Sea-Captain Relates his Adventures, and Refuses to Draw Morals.
Captain Richard Millet, like his sister, was rather eccentric. Unlike her, however, he was large, broad, and powerful. It would have taken considerably more than “half a gale” to blow him away. Even a gale and a half might have failed to do that.
“Glad to meet you,” he said, extending his solid-looking hand with a frank, hearty air, on being introduced to Jeff. “My sister Molly has often spoken of you. Sorry to hear you’ve left the sea. Great mistake, young man—great mistake. There’s no school like the sea for teaching a man his dependence on his Maker.”
“The school is not very successful, if one may judge from the character of most of its pupils,” replied the youth.
“Perhaps you misjudge their character,” returned the captain, with a look of good-natured severity.
“I’m sure he does,” cried Miss Millet, with enthusiasm. “Noble-hearted, simple men, who would probably never go wrong at all if it were not for their unsuspecting trustfulness and bad companions! Come, sit down, Dick. Tea is ready.”
“Yes, young man,” continued Captain Millet “you misjudge ’em. You should not judge of a school by the shouting and mischief of the worst boys, who always flaunt their colours, while the good ones steer quietly on their course. You’ll understand that better when your beard is grey. Youth is fond o’ lookin’ at the surface, an’ so is apt to misjudge the character of men as well as the ways of Providence.”
Jeff took the rebuke in good part, readily admitted that youth was prone to err, and slily expressed a hope that in his case coming in contact with age might do him good.
“If you mean that for a shot at me,” cried the captain, with a loud guffaw, “you’ve missed the mark; for I’m only forty-five, an’ that isn’t age; is it, Molly?”
“Of course not. Why, you’re little more than a baby yet,” replied Miss Millet who greatly enjoyed even a small joke—indeed, she enjoyed almost everything, more or less, that was not wicked. “But now, Dick, I want you to tell Jeff some of your adventures in foreign parts—especially those that have a moral, you know.”