hich first taught me to read. I covered my face
with my hand, and thought of my childhood. . . .

'This is a singular book,' said I at last; 'but it does not appear to
have been written to prove that thieving is no harm, but rather to show
the terrible consequences of crime: it contains a deep moral.'

'A deep what, dear?'

'A--but no matter, I will give you a crown for this volume.'

'No, dear, I will not sell the volume for a crown.'

'I am poor,' said I; 'but I will give you two silver crowns for your
volume.'

'No, dear, I will not sell my volume for two silver crowns; no, nor for
the golden one in the king's tower down there; without my book I should
mope and pine, and perhaps fling myself into the river; but I am glad you
like it, which shows that I was right about you, after all; you are one
of our party, and you have a flash about that eye of yours which puts me
just in mind of my dear son. No, dear, I won't sell you my book; but, if
you like, you may have a peep into it whenever you come this way. I
shall be glad to see you; you are one of the right sort, for, if you had
been a common one, you would have run away with the thing; but you scorn
such behaviour, and, as you are so flash of your money, though you say
you are poor, you may give me a tanner to buy a little baccy with; I love
baccy, dear, more by token that it comes from the plantations to which
the blessed woman was sent.'

'What's a tanner?' said I.

'Lor! don't you know, dear? Why, a tanner is sixpence; and, as you were
talking just now about crowns, it will be as well to tell you that those
of our trade never calls them crowns, but bulls; but I am talking
nonsense, just as if you did not know all that already, as well as
myself; you are only shamming--I'm no trap, dear, nor more was the
blessed woman in the book. Thank you, dear--thank you for the tanner; if
I don't spend it, I'll keep it in remembrance of your sweet face. What,
you are going?--well, first let me whisper a word to you. If you have
any clies to sell at any time, I'll buy them of you; all safe with me; I
never peach, and scores a trap; so now, dear, God bless you! and give you
good luck. Thank you for your pleasant company, and thank you for the
tanner.'

CHAPTER XXXII

The tanner--The hotel--Drinking claret--London journal--New
field--Commonplaceness--The three individuals--Botheration--Frank and
ardent.

'Tanner!' said I musingly, as I left the bridge;