"Why, Gascoigne, what would you do with a wife?"
"Just exactly what you would do, Jack."
"I mean, my dear Ned, can you afford to marry?"
"Not while the old governor lives, but I know he has some money in the funds. He told me one day that I could not expect more than three thousand pounds. You know I have sisters."
"And before you come into that you'll have three thousand children."
"That's a large family, Jack," replied Gascoigne, bursting out into laughter, in which our hero joined.
"Well, you know I only wanted to argue the point with you."
"I know that, Jack; but I think we're counting our chickens before they are hatched, which is foolish."
"In every other case except when we venture upon matrimony."
"Why, Jack, you're becoming quite sensible."
"My wisdom is for my friends, my folly for myself. Good-night."
But Jack did not go to sleep. "I must not allow Gascoigne to do such a foolish thing," thought he—"marry a dark girl on midshipman's pay, if he succeeds—get his throat cut if he does not." As Jack said, his wisdom was for his friends, and he was so generous that he reserved none for his own occasions.
Miss Julia Hicks, as we before observed, set the fashions at Tetuan, and her style of dress was not unbecoming. The Moorish women wore large veils, or they may be called what you will, for their headdresses descend to their heels at times, and cover the whole body, leaving an eye to peep with, and hiding everything else. Now Miss Julia found this much more convenient than the bonnet, as she might walk
