the
day.

Nancy, the young woman we have introduced to our readers, had contracted
a great regard for our hero, ever since his offering her his money; and
Joey was equally partial to her, for she possessed a warm heart and much
good feeling, she would very often run upstairs into Mrs Chopper's
room, to talk with the old lady and to see Joey, and would then take out
her thimble and needle, examine his clothes, and make the necessary
repairs.

"I saw you walking with little Emma Phillips, Peter," said Nancy: "where
did you come to know her?"

"I met her in the road the day that I came down to Gravesend."

"Well, I'm sure! and do you speak to every young lady you chance to
meet?"

"No; but I was unhappy, and she was very kind to me."

"She's a very sweet child, or rather, I can only say that she was, when
I knew her?"

"When did you know her?"

"Four or five years ago. I lived for a short time with Mrs Phillips;
that was when I was a good girl."

"Yes, indeed, Nancy," said Mrs Chopper, shaking her head.

"Why ain't you good, now, Nancy?" replied Joey.

"Because--" said Nancy.

"Because why?"

"Because I am not good," replied the girl; "and now, Peter, don't ask
any more questions, or you'll make me cry. Heigho! I think crying very
pleasant now and then; one's heart feels fresher, like flowers after the
rain. Peter, where are your father and mother?"

"I don't know; I left them at home."

"You left them at home! but do you never hear from them? do you never
write?"

"No."

"But why not? I am sure they have brought you up well. They must be
very good people--are they not?"

Joey could not answer; how could he say that his father was a good man
after what had passed?

"You don't answer me, Peter; don't you love your father and mother
dearly?"

"Yes, indeed I do; but I must not write to them."

"Well, I must say there is something about Peter and his parents which I
cannot understand, and which I have often tried to make him tell, and he
will not," said Mrs Chopper. "Poaching ain't such a great crime,
especially in a boy. I can't see why he should not write to his father
and mother, at all events, I hope, Peter, you have told me the truth?"

"I have told you what is true; but my father was a poacher, and they
know it; and if they did not punish me, they would him, and transport
him, too, if I gave evidence against him, which I must do, if put to my
oath. I've told you all I can tell; I