He did not squander himself in words and gestures, as boys of his age generally do.

Early, at a period of life when they seldom discuss the problems of existence, he had looked his miserable condition in the face, and he had promised "to make" himself.
And he had made himself--being already almost a man at an age when others are still only children.
At the same time, very nimble, very skilful in all physical exercises, Dick Sand was one of those privileged beings, of whom it may be said that they were born with two left feet and two right hands.

In that way, they do everything with the right hand, and always set out with the left foot.
Public charity, it has been said, had brought up the little orphan.

He had been put first in one of those houses for children, where there is always, in America, a place for the little waifs.

Then at four, Dick learned to read, write and count in one of those State of New York schools, which charitable subscriptions maintain so generously.
At eight, the taste for the sea, which Dick had from birth, caused him to embark as cabin-boy on a packet ship of the South Sea.