with
her?"

"Rheumatism, and, I believe, fever; for her hand is hot, and her tongue
very white. She was lying in bed with no one to help her, and had not
strength to reach a drop of water, until I gave it to her."

"Poor old soul!" said the widow. "And yet they say that she has money?"

"I don't think that she has much," replied I; "for when she lent me the
twenty-eight shillings, she had not ten shillings more in the bag. But,
doctor, I'll pay you; I will, indeed. How much will it be?"

"Now, doctor, just put on your hat, and set off as soon as you please;
for if Poor Jack says he'll pay you, you know that your money is as safe
as mine was in the bank--before it failed."

"Well, I'll just finish my cigar."

"Of course you will--as you walk along, Mr. Tadpole," replied the widow;
"it's very pleasant to smoke in the air, and just as unpleasant to
others your smoking in the house. So, doctor, just be off and see the
poor old wretch directly, or--I'll be affronted."

Hereupon the doctor took up his hat, and without reply walked off with
me. When we arrived, I unlocked the door and we went in.

"Well, old Nanny, what's the matter now?" said Dr. Tadpole.

"Nothing, doctor, nothing; you've come on a useless message; I didn't
send for you, recollect that; it was Jack who would go; I did not send,
recollect that, doctor; I can't afford it; I've no money."

"Very well, I shan't look to you for money. Put out your tongue,"
replied the doctor, as he felt her pulse.

"Recollect, doctor, I did not send for you. Jack, you are witness--I've
no money," repeated old Nanny.

"Put out your tongue," repeated the doctor.

"No, I won't, till it's all clearly settled."

"It is, you old fool," said the doctor, impatiently; "put out your
tongue."

"Jack, you're witness it's all by force," said Nanny, who at last put
out her tongue; "and now, doctor, I'll tell you."

Whereupon Nanny commenced with a narrative of her ills; and by her own
account there was not a portion of her body from top to toe which had
not some ailment.

"You've a very bad complaint," said the doctor; "what d'ye think it is?
It's old age. I hardly know whether I can cure it."

"Can your draw the pain out of my old bones?" said Nanny, groaning.

"Why, I'll try, at all events. I must send you something to take
inwardly."

"Who's to pay for it?" said old Nanny.

"I will, mother," said I.

"You're witness, doctor--Jack says he'll pay for it. You're a