None of your ancestors could make money. They took nothing
from the general mass, and would not impoverish their neighbours. Your
grandfather would not buy any of the national property, as others did.
Your father was like all other sailors, and the proof that he was born
to be a sailor and to fight was that he had no head for business. When
you were born we were in such a bad way that I took you on my knees
and cried bitterly. You see that sailors are not like the rest of the
world. I have known many who entered upon a term of service with
a good round sum of money in their possession. They would heat
the silver pieces in a frying-pan and throw them into the street,
splitting their sides with laughter at the crowd which scrambled for
them. This was meant to show that it was not for mercenary motives
that they were ready to risk their lives, and that honour and duty
cannot be posted in a ledger. And then there was your poor uncle
Peter. I cannot tell you what trouble he used to give me."
"Tell me about him," I said, "for somehow or other I like him very
much."
"You saw him once; he met us near the bridge, and he lifted his hat to
you, but you were too much respected in the neighbourhood for him to
venture to speak to you, though I did not like to tell you so. He was
one of the best-natured creatures in existence, but he could never be
got to apply himself to work. He was always lounging about, passing
the best part of the day and night in taverns.
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