ly silence that ensued.

"Them's outfitters' cards, sir, yezsir," he said, bringing in his salver
again presently, piled up with circulars and square pieces of pasteboard
which he placed before Dad. "Parties" as heerd tell young gents "as
passed and wants fer to get the horder for his h'uniforms, sir, yezsir!"

Having thus eased his mind, my old friend bustled out of the room as
quickly as he had entered, no doubt afraid of my father giving him
another "dressing-down."

Dad, however, was not thinking of the waiter or his cheeky manner for
the moment.

"By Jove, Jack!" he cried, "you're getting quite an important personage.
Why, we'll have all the tradesmen of Portsea struggling for your lordly
custom if we stop here much longer! Do they say anything about the
boy's outfit in that letter, my dear?"

"Oh, yes," replied my mother, taking up the missive, which she had
dropped on her knee, and going on to read it over to herself again.
"There's a long list of things that he is ordered to get."

"Then, the sooner we see about getting them the better," said Dad,
looking over the letter, too. "We'll go round to Richardson's this
afternoon if you like, my dear. I think he's the best man to rig-out
Jack, and, besides, I've had dealings with him before."

"Very well, I'll go and put on my bonnet at once," said mother, rising
from the table as she spoke. "You must tell the man, Frank, to have the
poor boy's things ready as quickly as possible, for I must mark them all
before he goes to sea. Ah! there'll be nobody to look after his clothes
there!"

"No, my dear, no one but his messmates in the midshipmen's berth," said
Dad, jokingly, with a wink to me, wishing to get mother out of her
sorrowful mood. "_They_ will take precious good care of his wardrobe
for him, I wager; that is, unless he keeps his weather eye open and a
sharp look-out and never leaves his sea-chest unlocked. All the marking
in the world won't save his gear if he does that, I can tell you and
him!"

Mother was not to be put off her purpose, however, despite Dad's chaff.

So, when the outfitter sent home my elaborate kit, quite complete in
every detail, within a couple of days after our visit to his shop, she
carefully marked every article with my name in full, adding some
numerical hieroglyph of her own that denoted how many of each
description of garment I possessed.

Poor thing! She was firmly convinced in her innocent mind that I would
be a