"Were you thinking of sea or land service, Nathan?" inquired the clergyman quietly.
"Land, I guess. Seems strange to you, I suppose. Seaman, like me. But I might as well get into the thick of it. Besides, I've had a pretty big dose of the sea."
"When, Nathan?" queried Robert Barton.
"Oh, as soon as possible. Next week—the week after!"
"Why, Nathaniel Cawthorne," ejaculated Mrs. Barton. "What about passing those examinations at the university, Professor Heckelman has gone to such trouble to make arrangements for? Two months ago you were studying yourself just pale, in an effort to get that bit of paper that would certify to Rebecca how much progress you'd made, and now you mean to say you aren't going to stay even for the examinations! Well, I call that foolish!"
"Probably, it does seem so, Mrs. Barton, but I don't seem to have the same heart for books lately," truthfully Nathan told her.
"Nonsense! Mercy, what if all our young men went and lost their heads like this? Anyhow, Nathan," she brought out triumphantly, "they won't have you, dear child, with those fingers of yours!"
"See if they won't!" Nathan retorted. "Except for the looks, I don't miss those fingers any more than I do long hair, Mrs. Barton."
Robert Barton told his mother that night, after Nathan had gone to his room, that he thought he understood the reason for the boy's decision.
"It is the result of the general waking-up in him. He's never felt any personal responsibility toward any-
