Gilpin observer., 1899-03-09
CHAPTER I.
The Eton Boy.

| 'ShSAA Go w llOJ ulSdu " dIG Iuc
principle maintained by some writer's
that, by an inevitable course of
events In life, that becomes fate which
at first was merely choice; but rather
to show how, by remarkable COM
bination of circumstances Ito great
extent beyond my own controD, l was
involved in a series of perils and per-
ordinations, such as rarely fall to the
lot even of those who have the most
restless of dispositions.
That my temperament was, and is
still, something of this nature, must
confess; and the reading of my leisure
hours-books of wild adventure by field
and flood Il have devoured them all
from the volumes of dear old Daniel
Defoe, to those of the Railway Lii
brary)-filled my mind with vague
longings and airy fancies for greater
achievements than our periodical re-
gatta or the ranks of our Elton Rifle
Volunteer Corps were likely to afford,
although I deemed myself by no means
an undistinguished member of the lat
| ter
Existence" says a certain writer,
appears to me scarcely existence,
without its struggles and its successes.
| should ever like to have some great
end before me, for the striving to at
tain amid crowd of competitors
would make me feel all the glory of
life"
With such vague ideas floating be-
fore me, l returned from Eton last
year, and found myself at my fathers
house, the old and secluded rectory of
Erlesmere, in a very undecided frame
of mind as to the future, and the pro-
fession l should adopt.
My father, as before, urged Kings
College as a proper preparation for any
profession.
My mother hinted that our name had
shone in the navy, and cast glance
at large portrait which hung in the
dining room. 1t represented George
Lord Rodney, the castigator of the
| Spaniards, in full bob-wig and white
| satin breeches, boarding the leading
| ship of the Caracca fleet amid whirl-
wind of torn rigging, smoke, and can
non balls, forming background by no
means hilarious.
But my father pooh-poohed this. /
was already far too old for the time at
which the navy Is entered-to-wit, the
mature years of thirteen.
Then my Aunt Etty. who still curled
her hair in the fashion of thirty years
ago. recommended the army with Il
| pensive air; for she had been engaged
to a young sub, who was killed at
must not say where. for it was a great
many years ago, and Aunt Etty is I'M
married still; but her views, though
warmly seconded by sisters Dot and
| Sybil (who saw military balls and pic
MICS in perspectiye), did not accord
with mine, for l had spent two years
or more in our Eton rife corps, and
the monotony of the drill-especially
that boring curriculum of Hythe posi-
tion Il went through the musketry
class), worried me, as wlllfully deem
ed myself able to sight my weapon and
bring down either a Frenchman or a
| pheasant without 1t.
At Aunt Etty's suggestion. my faith
er would shake his white head and say,
quoting the author of Ecclesiasticus:
""There are two things which grieve
my heart to see; man of war that
suffereth from poverty, and men of
understanding that are not set by The
sword, Etty, is but poor inheritance;
better send Dick to the counting house
of his uncle, Rodney & Co., in Lon
don."
But trembled at this suggestion, as
1t did not accord with my own brilliant
views in any way, and so months
passed idly away.
l missed the manly amusements of
Eton and the hilarity of my class-fel-
lows; and though loving we'll my home
and family, when the novelty of my re-
turn and of perfect freedom passed
away, ! longed for change of scene
stirring occupation-an active en-
ployment.
Is destiny stronger than intention?
i should hope not; yet for a time |
was almost inclined to think so. after
the terrible episode by which | was
suddenly torn from my home and cast
upon that world which, hitherto. / had
viewed through the sunny medium of
my day dreams and romances alone.
Two miles from the Rectory is the
village or small seaport of Erlesmere.
One of the leading features in the
fsher-village of Erlesmere Is little
public house, at the ivy-coored porch
of which a group Of burly weather.
beaten fellows in long boots, striped
shirts, and red nightcaps, and con-
stantly smoking, drinking and "tak-
ing squints to seward through an
old battered telescope, served" round
with spun yarn. Near IL Is small
dock yard. where their boats are built,
tarred and painted, and where a pass
ing coaster may have trivial repair
effected, and occasionally be hove
down.