others, step by step progressed to competence and every prospect of mundane happiness.  Had I not, therefore, reason to be grateful, and to feel that there had been a little cherub who had watched over the life of Poor Jack?  On my bended knees I acknowledged it fervently and gratefully, and prayed that, should it please Heaven that I should in after life meet any reverse, I might bear it without repining, and say, with all humility, “Thy will and not mine, O Lord, be done!”

How bright was the next morning, and how cheerful did the dancing waves appear to me!—­and Bessy’s eyes were radiant as the day, and her smiles followed in rapid succession; and Bramble looked so many years younger—­he was almost too happy to smoke—­it was really the sunshine of the heart which illumined our cottage.  And thus did the few days pass, until Anderson and my father made their appearance.  They were both surprised at Bessy’s beauty, and told me so.  They had heard that she was handsome, but they were not prepared for her uncommon style; for now that her countenance was lighted up with joy, she was indeed lovely.

“Well, Tom,” observed my father, “there’s only one thing which surprises me.”

“What is that?”

“Why, how, with such a fine craft in view, you could ever have sailed in the wake of such a little privateer as—­but I must not mention her—­never mind, don’t answer me that—­but another question—­when are you going to be spliced?”

“Very soon, I hope; but I really don’t exactly know.  All I can say is the sooner the better.”

“And so say I. Shall I bring up the subject on the plea of my leave being only for ten days?”

“Yes, father, I wish you would, as it is really a good reason to allege for its taking place immediately.”

“Tom, my dear boy,” said old Anderson, “from what I can perceive, you have great reason to be thankful in having obtained this young woman for your future partner in life.  I admire her exceedingly, and I trust in Heaven that you will be happy.”

“I ought to be,” replied I, “and grateful also particularly to you, to whom, under Providence, I am so much indebted.”

“If the seed is sown upon good ground, it will always yield a good harvest, Tom.  You are a proof of it, so thank Heaven, and not me.  I wish to tell you what your father has mentioned to me.  The fact is, Tom, he is in what may be called a false position at Greenwich.  He is a pensioner, and has now sufficient not to require the charity, and he thinks that he ought not to avail himself of it, now that you have made him independent; but if he leaves the hospital and remains at Greenwich, he and your mother would not agree well together.  They are very good friends at a certain distance, but I do not think, with her high notions, that they could ever live together in the same house.  He says that he should like to live either with you or near you; and I think myself, now that he is become so very steady a character, it does require your consideration whether you ought not to permit him.  He will be a very good companion for Bramble, and they will get on well together.  I do not mean to say that it might not be more agreeable if he were to remain at Greenwich; but he is your father, Tom, and you should make some sacrifice for a parent.”