ABSTRACT
THE FIRST chance in life is ever being born at all, and a mighty uncertain affair it seems to us mortals.
My grandfather, Captain Matthew Flinders, who died at forty, left two young friends who kept in touch with his widow and daughter for half a century. One was his cousin, a midshipman on his ship H.M.S. Investigator, John Franklin, of Arctic fame. From his childhood, John was always the heroic gentleman. One evening my greatgrandmother, visiting his mother, rose to leave, saying it was getting too late; Johnnie, then four years old, at once said, "Never mind, Mrs. Tyler, I will see you home."
