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a marine store, and to whom I used to sell whatever I picked up on the beach. She was a strange old woman, and appeared to know everything that was going on. How she gained her information I cannot tell. She was very miserly in general; but it was said she had done kind things in one or two instances. Nobody knew her history: all that anybody knew was that she was Old Nanny. She had no kith or kin that she ever mentioned; some people said she was rich, if the truth were known; but how are we to get at the truth in this world? I was soon at old Nanny's store, with the piece of rope coiled over my arm. "Well, Jack, what have you got here? a piece of good junk? no, it is not, for it is quite rotten. Why do you bring me such things? What can I do with them?" "Why, mother," says I, "it's new rope; not been used hardly; it's the very best of junk." "Boy, boy! do you pretend to teach me? Well, what do you want for it?" "I want a shilling," replied I. "A shilling!" cried she, "where am I to find a shilling? And if I could find one, why should I throw it away upon a thing not worth twopence, and which will only lumber my store till I die? The boy's demented!" "Mother," says I, "it's worth a shilling, and you know it; so give it to me, or I go elsewhere." "And where will you go to, good-for-nothing that you are? where will you go to?" "Oh! the fishermen will give me more." "The fishermen will give you a couple of stale flat-fish, to take home to your mother." "Well, I'll try that," said I, going. "Not so fast, Jack, not so fast; if I make a penny by you one day, I suppose, to keep your custom, I must lose something by you the next. Now, I'll give you sixpence; and how I'm to get my money back I don't know." "No, Nanny," said I, "I must have a shilling." "A shilling, you little cheat! I can't give it; but what do you want? don't you want a key to your chest, or something of that sort?" "I've no chest, mother, and therefore don't want a key." "But you want something out of all the pretty things in my shop; boys always fancy something." I laughed at the idea of "pretty things" in her shop, for it contained nothing but old iron, empty bottles, dirty rags and phials; so I told her there was nothing that I wanted. "Well," says she, "sit down a little, and look about you; there's no hurry. So Mrs. East has got another boy, worse luck for the parish, with six children already!--Look about you, a
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