d been much used in former days;
pin-cushions, shell-baskets, one or two horse-shoes, and iron-heels of
boots; several flat irons belonging to doll's houses, with a couple of
dolls, much the worse for wear, mounting guard over them; besides a host
of other nick-nacks, for which it were impossible to find names or
imagine uses. Everything--from the old woman's cap to the uncarpeted
floor, and the little grate in which a little fire was making feeble
efforts to warm a little tea-kettle with a defiant spout--was
scrupulously neat, and fresh, and clean, very much the reverse of what
one might have expected to find in connection with a poverty-stricken
population, a dirty lane, a filthy court, a rickety stair, and a dark
passage. Possibly the cause might have been found in a large and
much-worn family Bible, which lay on a small table in company with a
pair of tortoiseshell spectacles, at the old woman's elbow.

On this scene the nautical man stood gazing, as we have said, with much
interest; but he was too polite to gaze long.

"Your servant, missis," he said with a somewhat clumsy bow.

"Good morning, sir," said the little old woman, returning the bow with
the air of one who had once seen better society than that of Grubb's
Court.

"Your name is Roby, I believe," continued the seaman, advancing, and
looking so large in comparison with the little room that he seemed
almost to fill it.

The little old woman admitted that that was her name.

"My name," said the seaman, "is Wopper, tho' I'm oftener called Skipper,
also Capp'n, by those who know me."

Mrs Roby pointed to a chair and begged Captain Wopper to sit down,
which he did after bestowing a somewhat pointed glance at the chair, as
if to make sure that it could bear him.

"You was a nuss once, I'm told," continued the seaman, looking steadily
at Mrs Roby as he sat down.

"I was," answered the old woman, glancing at the photographs over the
chimney-piece, "in the same family for many years."

"You'll excuse me, ma'am," continued the seaman, "if I appear something
inquisitive, I want to make sure that I've boarded the right craft d'ee
see--I mean, that you are the right 'ooman."

A look of surprise, not unmingled with humour, beamed from Mrs Roby's
twinkling black eyes as she gazed steadily in the seaman's face, but she
made no other acknowledgment of his speech than a slight inclination of
her head, which caused her tall cap to quiver. Captain Wopper,
rega