“Thank you, father; but Bramble was right.  I shall not accept of it, although I am much obliged to the captain.”

Here my father stopped me.  “First, Tom,” said he, “we must overhaul the pros and cons, as people call them.  Old Anderson weighed them very closely, and now you shall hear them.”  Here my father commenced a long story, with which I shall not tire the reader, as to the prospects on either side; but as soon as he had finished I replied: 

“That all he said was very true; but that I had made up my mind that, if ever I were regularly to serve, it should be in a man-of-war, not in a merchant vessel; that it was certainly possible that I might, after serving many years, become a captain of an Indiaman, which was a high position, but I preferred being a pilot, and more my own master; that if there were no other objections, that of being absent for three years at a time from him and Virginia would be more than sufficient, and that I was very happy where I was, as Bramble and little Bessy were almost equal to another father and another sister.  A rolling stone gathers no moss, they say, father.  I have entered into the pilot service, and in that I hope to remain.”

“Well, you’re right, Tom; Bramble said you would decide so.  There’s nothing like being contented with what we are and what we have got.”

“I might probably become a richer man if I were to be a captain of an Indiaman,” observed I; “but I’m sure if ever I’m able to buy a little farm, as Bramble is now able to do, I shall think myself quite rich enough.”

“You see, Tom, it all depends upon what people’s ideas are.  One man thinks himself rich with what another would think that he was a beggar.  Now I dare say old Nanny thinks that shop of old iron and rubbish that she has got together the finest shop in all Greenwich.”

“I believe she does, and the prettiest,” replied I, laughing.

“Well now, Tom, an odd thing happened the other day while you were away, just to prove how true that is.  You may recollect a little old man in our ward, Phil Nobbs they called him, who walked with his chin half a yard before him.  Well, he took to the sick ward and died, since you have been gone.  I went to see him, of course, and he was always talking about his property; and none of us knew where it was, but we supposed that he had it somewhere.  One day, as I was sitting by his bed, he says, ’Saunders, the doctor’s coming round, just tell him I want to make my will, for I feel as if I were slipping my wind.’  Well, the doctor and the chaplain both came to his bedside with the paper, and Nobbs raised himself on his elbow, and said, ’Are you ready, sir?  Well, then, I’ll make short work of it.  This is my last will and testament:  first, I wish a white pall over me, when I’m buried, and that expense must be deducted, after which I bequeath to my nephews and nieces, James Strong, Walter Strong, Ellen Strong, Mary Williams, the one