Jack at Sea: All Work and No Play Made Him a Dull Boy

  Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

  Jack at Sea; or, All Work and no Play made him a Dull Boy, by GeorgeManville Fenn.

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  We do seem to have rather a problem with this book, because the copy weworked from had pages 15 and 16 missing (sheet was missing) and also thebottom half of pages 283 and 284 has been torn out. Eventually, when Ican see another copy of the book I will be able to rectify this, but atthe moment there does not seem to be a copy in sight: it doesn't evenseem to be listed in the British Library Catalogue.

  Jack is an academic and clever boy, who does not do much in the way ofsport and exercise. This worries his father who talks about it to thelocal doctor. They decide that Jack has to be forced into the worldmost of us inhabit, but the way they do it was surely a bit of anover-kill, for Sir John (the father, who is a baronet), buys a yachtcapable of sailing round the world, and they all set off in it,including Ned, one of the domestics from home. There is an excellentcrew and the skipper of the yacht is taken on for the trip.

  Jack is pretty miserable at first, with seasickness, but gradually hejoins in with the daily activities, and as time goes on he becomesindistinguishable from other boys who might have this opportunity. Wejoin in with Jack and Ned in various adventures, mostly in the Javaseas.

  Apart from the minor blemish of the three missing texts, the book ismost enjoyable. There are the usual G M Fenn tight situations, but ofcourse the young men (as these boys would like to be called) manage toget out of them.

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  JACK AT SEA; OR, ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MADE HIM A DULL BOY, BY GEORGEMANVILLE FENN.

  OR ALL WORK AND NO PLAY MADE JACK A DULL BOY.

  CHAPTER ONE.

  WHEN A BOY IS NOT A BOY.

  "Fine morning, Jack; why don't you go and have a run?"

  John Meadows--always "Jack," because his father's name was John--uponhearing that father's voice, raised his dull, dreamy eyes slowly fromthe perusal of the old Latin author over which he was bending, andlooked in Sir John's face, gazing at him inquiringly as if he had beenwalking with Cicero in Rome--too far away to hear the question which hadfallen upon his ears like a sound which conveyed no meaning.

  Father and son were as much alike as a sturdy sun-browned man of fortycan resemble a thin, pale youth of sixteen or so. In other words, theypossessed the same features, but the elder suggested an outdoor plant,sturdy and well-grown, the younger a sickly exotic, raised in the hotsteaming air of the building which gardeners call a stove, a place inwhich air is only admitted to pass over hot-water pipes, for fear theplants within should shiver and begin to droop.

  Sir John had just entered the handsome library, bringing with him a goodbreezy, manly suggestion of having been tramping through woods and overdowns; and as soon as he had closed the door, he glanced at the largefire near to which his son had drawn a small writing-table, said "Pff!"unbuttoned his rough heather-coloured Norfolk jacket, raised his eyes tothe window as if he would like to throw it open, and then lowered themand wrinkled up his forehead as he gazed at his son, carefully dressedin dark-brown velvet, and wearing correctly fitting trousers and patentleather shoes, a strong contrast to his own knickerbockers, coarse brownknitted stockings, and broad-soled shooting-boots.

  Sir John looked anxious and worried, and he stretched out a strong brownhand to lay upon his son's shoulder, but he let it fall again, drew adeep breath, and then very gently asked him the question about the walk.

  "Did you speak to me, father?" said the lad vacantly.

  "Speak to you!" cried Sir John, in an impatient, angry tone, "of courseI spoke to you. It worries me to see you so constantly sitting over thefire reading."

  "Does it, father?" said the lad, wincing at the tone in which thesewords were spoken, and looking up in an apologetic way.

  "I didn't mean to speak to you so sharply, my boy," continued Sir John,"but I don't like to see you neglecting your health so. Study's rightenough, but too much of a good thing is bad for any one. Now, on a finemorning like this--"

  "Is it fine, father? I thought it was cold."

  "Cold! Tut--tut--tut! The weather is never cold to a healthy, manlyboy."

  "I'm afraid I'm not manly, father," said the lad.

  "No, Jack, nor healthy neither; you are troubling me a great deal."

  "Am I, father?" said the lad softly. "I'm very sorry. But I really amquite well."

  "You are not, sir," cried Sir John, "and never will be if you spend allyour time over books."

  The lad gave him a sad, weary look.

  "I thought you wanted me to study hard, father," he said reproachfully.

  "Yes, yes, my boy, I do, and I should like to see you grow up into adistinguished man, but you are trying to make yourself into theproverbial dull boy."

  "Am I? And I have worked so hard," said the lad in a weary, spiritlessway.

  "Yes; it's all work and no play with you, Jack, and it will not do, boy.When I was your age I was captain of our football club."

  Jack shuddered.

  "I often carried out my bat at cricket."

  The lad sighed.

  "I could stick on anything, from a donkey up to an unbroken colt; throwa ball as far as any of my age, and come in smiling and ready for a goodmeal after a long paper-chase."

  Jack's pitiable look of despair was almost comical.

  "While you, sir," cried Sir John angrily, "you're a regular molly, anddo nothing but coddle yourself over the fire and read. It's read, read,read, from morning till night, and when you do go out, it's warmwrappers and flannel and mackintoshes. Why, hang it all, boy! you goabout as if you were afraid of being blown over, or that the rain wouldmake you melt away."

  "I am very sorry, father," said the youth piteously; "I'm afraid I amnot like other boys."

  "Not a bit."

  "I can't help it."

  "You don't try, Jack. You don't try, my boy. I always had the best ofaccounts about you from Daneborough. The reports are splendid. And,there, my dear boy, I am not angry with you, but it is very worrying tosee you going about with lines in your forehead and this white face,when I want to see you sturdy and--well, as well and hearty as I am.Why, Jack, you young dog!" he cried, slapping him on the shoulder, andmaking the lad wince, "I feel quite ashamed of myself. It isn't rightfor an old man like I am."

  "You old, father!" said the lad, with more animation, and a faint flushcame in his cheeks. "Why you look as well and young and strong as--"

  "As you ought to be, sir. Why, Jack, boy, I could beat you at anythingexcept books--walk you down, run you down, ride, jump, row, playcricket, shoot, or swim."

  "Yes, father, I know," sighed the lad.

  "But I'm ashamed to do anything of the kind when I see you moping like asick bird in a cage."

  "But I'm quite well, father, and happy--at least I should be if you wereonly satisfied with me."

  "And I do want to see you happy, my boy, and I try to be satisfied withyou. Now look here: come out with me more. I want to finish mycollection of the _diptera_. Suppose you help me, and then we'll makeanother collection--birds say, or--no, I know: we'll take up the Britishfishes, and work them all. There's room there. It has never been halfdone. Why, what they call roach vary wonderfully. Even in two pondsclose together the fish are as different as can be, and yet they callthem all roach. Look here--we'll fish and net, and preserve in spirits,and you'll be surprised how much interest you will find in it combinedwith healthy exercise."

  "I'l
l come with you, father, if you wish it," said the lad.

  "Bah! That's of no use. I don't want you to come because I wish it. Iwant you to take a good healthy interest in the work, my boy. But it'sof no use. I am right; you have worked too hard, and have read tillyour brain's getting worn out. There, I am right, Jack. You are notwell."

  "Doctor Instow, Sir John," said a servant, entering.

  "Humph! lost no time," muttered the baronet. "Where is he, Edward?"

  "In the drawing-room, Sir John."

  "I'll come. No; show him in here."

  "Father," whispered the lad excitedly, and a hectic spot showed in eachcheek, "why has Doctor Instow come here?"

  "Because I sent for him, my boy."

  "But not to see me?" said the lad excitedly. "Indeed I am quite well."

  "No, you are not, boy. Yes, he has come to see you, and try to set youright, so speak out to him like a man."

  At that moment steps were heard crossing the polished oak floor of thegreat hall, and directly after a keen-eyed, vigorous-looking man ofabout six-and-thirty entered the room in a quick, eager way.