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“Now is the time to conquer their fears,” and continued to take his boys on such excursions as before.

One day while George Farragut was out on the lake fishing, he saw an old man in a boat alone and evidently sick.

Pulling alongside of him, Farragut found him unconscious, and towing his boat to shore, carried him to the house, where Elizabeth Farragut nursed him with as tender care as if he had been her father. His disease was yellow fever, and in five days he died, and brave Elizabeth Farragut survived him by only a few days, having caught the disease while nursing him.

A sad day that was for the poor widower who was left with five motherless children to care for, and it is small wonder that he scarcely knew where to turn. While he was still dazed by his burden of grief, a stranger came to the desolate little home on the lake, and asked to see Mr. Farragut. He was Capt. Porter, the son of the old man who had been cared for in his last sickness by the Farraguts, and his son had come to express his gratitude for their kindness, and to offer to adopt one of the boys, as a token of appreciation, if Mr. Farragut was willing to give one up.

Although it meant final parting with his boy, and that was not easy, George Farragut felt it was a wise thing to do, and as his eldest son, William, was already in the navy, David was the next to accept the offered advantage. Captain Porter was at that time in command of the naval station at New Orleans, and his showy uniform made a great impression on little David, who though sad at leaving his father and brothers, was eager to go with this handsome new guardian, and as soon as the farewells were said, and his slender wardrobe was packed, Captain Porter took him away with him to his home in New Orleans, and from there to Washington where he was placed in a good school.

Farragut was a bright, intelligent boy, with an honest, pleasant face, and though he was short, he stood very erect and always held his head very high.

“I cannot afford to lose any of my inches,” he always said.

One day he was introduced to the Secretary of the Navy, who after asking him many questions, was so delighted with the boy’s quick answers that he patted him on the head, saying:

“My boy, when you are ten years old, I shall make you a midshipman in the navy.”

That promise seemed too good to be true to young Farragut, who was then nine and a half years old, but the Secretary of the Navy did not forget it but kept his word, and the appointment came promptly, putting the boy in a seventh heaven of anticipation. Then the arrangement was made that he was to go with Capt. Porter, and on that October day of 1812 when the Essex sailed out of the Delaware river, the young midshipman stood in all his proud splendour of uniform beside the Captain who was already his ideal of a naval hero.

For several months the Essex cruised about in the Atlantic, during which time Captain Porter was able to capture some English vessels, among them the Alert, and the Essex was crowded with prisoners taken from the prize ships.

One night when young Farragut lay apparently asleep, but in reality listening and watching, the coxswain of the Alert came to his hammock with a pistol in hand. Farragut scarcely breathed until he had passed by, then noiselessly the young midshipman crept to the cabin where Captain Porter was, aroused him and told him what he had seen. The Captain sprang from his cot, crying “Fire! Fire!” The sailors rushed on deck at the cry, and the rebels were in irons almost before they knew what had happened, while to young Farragut belonged the credit of having averted a mutiny.