When he departed he gave me a gold piece and said
that Life was nothing but vanity, and that I must pray for his soul when
he was dead as he was sure it would need such help, also that I ought
to put the gold piece out to interest. This I did by buying with it a
certain fierce mastiff dog I coveted that had been brought on a ship
from Norway, which dog bit some great man in our town, who hauled my
mother before the bailiff about it and caused the poor beast to be
killed, to my great wrath.
Now that I came to think of it, I had liked my Uncle John well enough
although he was so different from others. Why should I not go to him?
Because I did not wish to sit in a shop in London, I who loved the sea
and the open air; also because I feared he might ask me what I had done
with that gold piece and make a mock of me about the dog. Yet my mother
had bidden me go, and it was her last command to me, her dying words
which it would be unlucky to disobey. Moreover, our boats and house
were burnt and I must work hard and long before these could be replaced.
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