e looked so beautiful and interesting in it. Poor
child! and now she will be disappointed. Never mind, my darling, you may
have to wear them soon yet, if he goes on this way."

Virginia did not seem to mind it at all; she was kissing and patting me,
and was delighted to see me again. But my mother took her by the hand,
and catching up the half-made dress and bonnet in her other, walked away
upstairs to her room, singing:

"There was an old man who lived under a hill,
And if he's not dead, he lives there still."

"So much for motherly love! Dang it, what's her heart made of?" said a
voice. I turned round; it was old Ben, who had been an unobserved
spectator of the scene.

CHAPTER TEN

In which I narrate what I consider the most fortunate Incident in
my Life; and Ben the Whaler confides to me a very strange History

Among the pensioners there was one with whom I must make the reader
acquainted, as he will be an important person in this narrative. His
name was Peter Anderson, a north countryman, I believe, from Greenock;
he had been gunner's mate in the service for many years, and, having
been severely wounded in an action, he had been sent to Greenwich. He
was a boatswain in Greenwich Hospital; that is, he had charge of a ward
of twenty-five men, and Ben the Whaler had lately been appointed one of
the boatswain's mates under him. He was a very good scholar, and had
read a great deal. You could hardly put any question to him, but you
would get from him a satisfactory sort of an answer; and he was
generally referred to in all points of dispute, especially in matters
connected with the service, which he had at his fingers' ends; and,
moreover, he was a very religious good man. I never heard him swear, but
correct all those who did so in his presence. He had saved some money in
the service, the interest of which, with his allowances as boatswain,
enabled him to obtain many little comforts, and to be generous to
others. Before Ben was shifted over to Anderson's ward, which he was
when he was appointed boatswain's mate under him, they had not been well
acquainted; but, since that time, they were almost always together; so
that now I knew Anderson, which I did not before, except by sight. He
was a very venerable looking old man, with gray locks curling down on
his shoulders, but very stout and hearty; and, as Ben had told him all
about me, he took notice of me, and appeared also to take an inter