old Nanny, who kept 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 childr