"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 children already!--Look about you, and take your time.--Did you
hear of Peter James giving his wife a black eye last night because she
wanted to get him out of the alehouse?--I wonder who that letter was
from that Susan Davis had from the post office. I think I could guess;
poor girl! she has looked rather peaking for some weeks.--Don't be in a
hurry, Jack; look about; there's plenty of pretty things in my shop.--So
Davis the butcher has been pulled up for bad meat; I thought it would
come to that, and I'm glad of it.--There's a capital lock and key, Jack,
to put to your chest, when you get one; suppose you take that.--What's
the doctor about? They say he is always sitting with the widow.--Does
your mother make plenty of money by clear-starching? I know your sister
had a spotted muslin frock on last Sunday, and that must have cost
something.--There's a spade, Jack; very useful to dig on the beach; you
may find something--money, perhaps--who knows? Take the spade, Jack,
and then you'll owe me sixpence.--So Bill Freeman pawned his wife's best
gown last Saturday night I thought it would be so. He may say it's
because he's caught no fish this bad weather. But I know more than
people think.--Here's a nice glass bottle, Jack, wouldn't you like to
give it to your mother, to put pickles in? it's white glass, you see.
Look about, Jack; there's plenty of pretty things, you see.--So the
Governor's daughter's going to be married; at least I suppose so, for I
met her riding with a young gentleman; and now-a-days the quality always
make love on horseback.--Well, Jack, have you found anything?"
"No, mother, I haven't; and I must have my shilling or go. Unless,
indeed, you're inclined to help me to what I want, and then I'll give
you the rope for nothing."
"Give me the rope for nothing!" replied old Nanny. "Sit down, Jack, and
let me know what it is you want."
I thought it was of little use to make the application, but I determined
to try; so I explained my wishes.
"Humph!" said she, after a minute's thought, "so you want thirty-three
shillings to buy clothes--to go to church in. Your mother dresses your
sister in spotted muslin, and leaves you in rags; suppose you wait till
your father comes home again?"
"That may not be for years."
"Why, Jack, I don't go to church--I am too old--too poor to dress myself
to go to church, even if I could go so far,--why should you go?"
"Well, mother," said I, rising up, "if you will not do it, I'm very
sorry; I would have paid you honestly, and have given you good bargains,
so good bye."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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