poor beast wanted a new sea-green ribbon.

Weston speaks so much more cleverly than I can, that I could not
explain to him then that I am still but too apt to dream! But the
harbour's mouth is now only the beginning of my visions, which stretch
far over the sea beyond, and over the darker line of that horizon
where the ships come and go.

I hope it is not wrong to dream. My father was so modest as well as
ambitious, so good as well as so gallant, that I would rather die than
disgrace him by empty conceit and unprofitable hopes.

Weston is a very religious fellow, though he does not "cant" at all.
When I was going away to Dartmouth, and he saw me off (for we were
great friends), one of the last things he said to me was, "I say,
don't leave off saying your prayers, you know."

I haven't, and I told him so this last time. I often pray that if ever
I am great I may be good too; and sometimes I pray that if I try hard
to be good God will let me be great as well.

The most wonderful thing was old Rowe's taking a cheap ticket and
coming down to see me last summer. I never can regret my voyage with
him in the _Betsy_, for I did thoroughly enjoy it, though I often
think how odd it is that in my vain, jealous wild-goose chase after
adventures I missed the chance of distinguishing myself in the only
Great Emergency which has yet occurred in our family.