"I am not fond of the profession. I have never liked it. I would give
much to relinquish it altogether."

Dalrymple gave utterance to a prolonged and very dismal whistle.

"This," said he gravely, "is the most serious part of the business. To
live in a dull place is bad enough--to live with dull people is bad
enough; but to have one's thoughts perpetually occupied with an
uncongenial subject, and one's energies devoted to an uncongenial
pursuit, is just misery, and nothing short of it! In fact 'tis a moral
injustice, and one that no man should be required to endure."

"Yet I must endure it."

"Why?"

"Because it is too late to do otherwise."

"It is never too late to repair an evil, or an error."

"Unless the repairing of it involved a worse evil, or a more fatal
error! No--I must not dream now of turning aside from the path that has
been chosen for me. Too much time and too much money have been given to
the thing for that;--I must let it take its course. There's no help
for it!"

"But, confound it, lad! you'd better follow the fife and drum, or go
before the mast, than give up your life to a profession you hate!"

"Hate is a strong word," I replied. "I do not actually hate it--at all