e wall, with an
outspread gilt eagle at the top of it; the big old arm-chair that had
belonged to his great-grandfather, who wrote his sermons in it--for all
the things the boy had about him were old, and in all his after-life
he never could bear new furniture. And now his grandmother's furniture
began to appear; and a great cart-load of it from her best bedroom was
speedily arranged in Willie's late quarters, and as soon as they were
ready for her, Mrs Macmichael set out in a post-chaise to fetch her
mother.

CHAPTER XIV.

WILLIE'S GRANDMOTHER.

Willie was in a state of excitement until she arrived, looking for
her as eagerly as if she had been a young princess. So few were the
opportunities of travelling between Priory Leas and the town where his
grandmother lived, that he had never seen her, and curiosity had its
influence as well as affection. Great, therefore, was his delight when
at last the chaise came round the corner of the street, and began to
draw up in order to halt at their door. The first thing he caught sight
of was a curious bonnet, like a black coal-scuttle upside down, inside
which, when it turned its front towards him, he saw a close-fitting
widow's cap, and inside that a kind old face, and if he could have
looked still further, he would have seen a kind young soul inside the
kind old face. She smiled sweetly when she saw him, but was too tired to
take any further notice of him until she had had tea.

During that meal Willie devoted himself to a silent waiting upon her,
watching and trying to anticipate her every want. When she had eaten a
little bread and butter and an egg, and drunk two cups of tea, she lay
back in her own easy chair, which had been placed for her by the side
of the parlour fire, and fell fast asleep for ten minutes, breathing so
gently that Willie got frightened, and thought she was dead. But all at
once she opened her eyes wide, and made a sign to him to come to her.

"Sit down there," she said, pushing a little footstool towards him.

Willie obeyed, and sat looking up in her face.

"So," she said, "you're the little man that can do everything?"

"No, grannie," answered Willie, laughing. "I wish I could; but I am only
learning to do a few things; and there's not one of them I can do right
yet."

"Do you know what they call you?"

"The boys at school call me Six-fingered Jack," said Willie.

"There!" said his grandmother. "I told you so."

"I'm glad it's only