boy quietly. "I
have thought of nothing else for the last year."

CHAPTER III.

IN QUEST OF FORTUNE.

James had so persuaded himself that the sea was his vocation, and was so
convinced of the pleasures and advantages it would bring, that it had
not occurred to him that his mother would object.

"What made you think of the sea, James?" his mother asked with a
troubled face.

"It was the books I read last year, at the black salter's. Oh, mother,
did you ever read Marryatt's novels, and 'Sinbad the Sailor'?"

"I have read 'Sinbad the Sailor,' but you know that is a fairy story, my
son."

"It may be, but Marryatt's stories are not. It must be splendid to
travel across the mighty ocean, and see foreign countries."

"A sailor doesn't have the chance to see much. You have no idea of the
hardships of his life."

"I am used to hardships, and I am not afraid of hard work. But you seem
disappointed, mother. What have you thought of for me?"

"I have hoped, James, that you might become a learned man, perhaps a
college professor. Surely that would be better than to be a common
sailor."

"But I wouldn't stay a common sailor, mother. I would be a captain some
time."

I suppose there is no doubt that, had James followed the sea, he would
have risen to the command of a ship, but the idea did not seem to dazzle
his mother.

"If you go to sea I shall lose you," said his mother. "A sailor can
spend very little time with his family. Think carefully, my son. I
believe your present fancy will be short-lived, and you will some day
wonder that you ever entertained it."

Such, however, was not the boy's idea at the time. His mother might have
reason on her side, but it takes more than reason to dissipate a boy's
passion for the sea.

"You speak of my becoming a scholar, mother," he said, "but there
doesn't seem much chance of it. I see nothing but work as a carpenter,
or on the farm."

"You don't know what God may have in store for you, my son. As you say,
there seems no way open at present for you to become a scholar; but if
you entertain the desire the way will be open. Success comes to him who
is in earnest."

"What, then, do you want me to do, mother! Do you wish me to stay at
home?"

"No, for there seems little for you to do here. Go to Cleveland, if you
like, and seek some respectable employment. If, after a time, you find
your longing for the sea unconquered, it will be time to look out for a
berth on b