thought that she was amusing you when she talked on in this way.  Unfortunately she had no anecdote, for she had a very bad memory, and therefore there was nothing to be gained from her.  By way of amusing me, she used to say, “Now, Tom, sit down here, and I’ll tell you all about my bad leg.”  And then she would commence with the first symptoms, the degrees of pain, the various plasters, bandages, and poultices which had been applied, and what the doctor had said this day and that day.  I bore this very patiently for four or five times; but at last, after several days of increasing impatience (somewhere about the fifteenth time, I believe), I could stand it no more, so I jumped off my chair and ran away just as she commenced the interesting detail.

“Mrs. Maddox,” said I, “I cannot bear to hear of your sufferings; pray never mention them again.”

“What a kind-hearted creature you are!” said she.  “Well, I won’t, then.  It’s not many who have such pity in them.  Cotton, where have you got to—­always running away?  One would think you don’t like to be knitted.  Now, cotton, don’t be foolish; where have you hid yourself?  You make others as bad as yourself.  Scissors have got away now—­there now, sit on my lap and be quiet.”

However, if Mrs. Maddox got back cotton and scissors, she did not get me back, for I bolted out of the front door, and joined the men who were lolling against the gunnel of a galley hauled up on the shingle.

During the period of which I am speaking, I continued every day to add to my knowledge of my profession, and eventually I was competent to pass my examination at the Trinity House.  When I went on board a vessel with Bramble, he would often give me charge of her, never interfering with me (although he watched me carefully) unless he considered that it was absolutely necessary, which I believe took place but twice.  He used to tell the masters of the vessels that I was quite as good a pilot as he was, which certainly was not quite correct; however, it was of great consequence to me, as it gave me that confidence so necessary in my profession, and in due time I passed for a river pilot at the Trinity House.  Some alteration occurred at the hospital during this interval.  Anderson had been promoted from boatswain of the ward to inspecting boatswain, a place of trust, with very comfortable emoluments, his weekly allowance being increased to five shillings; and on his promotion my father was made a boatswain’s mate of the Warriors’ Ward.  This was at first satisfactory to my mother, who was pleased that my father should wear lace upon his pensioner’s coat; but, as she advanced in the world, she did not like the idea of my father being in the hospital, nor did she want him to be at her house—­in fact, she could have done better without him; but as that could not be she made the best of it.  It must be acknowledged that my father’s boisterous and rude manner had been softening down ever since he had been in the hospital,