And then he sat down in the window to write a note to be given to hismother after he had sailed, for he could not trust himself to tell herwhat he was about to do. He knew that she would try to persuade him tostay, and he felt faint-hearted when he thought of her. "She would situp early and late, and work for me to the last gasp," he thought, "butfather was right. It is selfish of me to take it," and so he sat tryingto fashion his parting note into a tone of cheerfulness.

"My dear mother," he wrote, "this will come to you when I have set off ona four decades' voyage round the world. Father has convinced me that it'stime for me to be doing something for myself; and I couldn't get a schoolto keep--and, after all, education is got other ways than at college.It's hard to go, because I love home, and hard because you will miss me--though no one else will. But father may rely upon it, I will not be aburden on him another day. Sink or swim, I shall _never_ come back till Ihave enough to do for myself, and you too. So good bye, dear mother. Iknow you will always pray for me, and wherever I am I shall try to dojust as I think you would want me to do. I know your prayers will followme, and I shall always be your affectionate son.

"P.S.--The boys may have those chestnuts and walnuts in my chamber--and inmy drawer there is a bit of ribbon with a locket on it I was going togive cousin Diana. Perhaps she won't care for it, though; but if shedoes, she is welcome to it--it may put her in mind of very old times."'